


Vulpes

by Relevant_Peach



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animagus, M/M, No Sex, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:54:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21615652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Relevant_Peach/pseuds/Relevant_Peach
Summary: When a tamed fox appears on the Hogwarts grounds, the professors are charmed.  Despite his protests, the fox adopts Severus.  Nobody is really surprised when there's more than meets the eye.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 243
Kudos: 1457
Collections: Platinum - HP





	1. A Visitor to Hogwarts

It was ten minutes before the staff meeting started, and Severus was doctoring his tea to exact specifications. Minerva, Hagrid, and Filius had all arrived before him, and were deep in conversation when he joined them, long fingers grasping the steaming mug.

“Do you suppose it’s rabid?” Filius was asking. “Maybe it’s dangerous”

“S’not dangerous, Filius. It’s tamed.” Hagrid insisted.

Minerva scoffed. “Is it more or less tame than the baby dragon you were harbouring here?” Hagrid had the decency to look a little shamefaced. “What about the blast-ended screwts? Is it as tame as they were?”

Severus suppressed a smile. Hagrid had an inability to see reason when it came to creatures, and whatever they were discussing could be slavering and biting children, but he’d still defend it.

“I tell you, you’re wrong!” Hagrid was growing red-faced. “It’s been watching me for two weeks. It’s never taken a step out of line, jus' follows me around the grounds, and sits and watches. Last week, I had a little kip under a tree, and it sat with me. It’s tamed. It must be someone’s pet”

Severus, who had been attempting to maintain a detached air of disdain, felt his curiosity overwhelm him. “What are we discussing?” he asked, a little grudgingly.

“Hagrid has a new friend” Filius squeaked brightly. “There’s a tame fox that has been seen around the grounds lately. We were just discussing how unusual it is for a fox to be so outgoing.”

“’S just a kit, it is. Dunno where its parents are. Poor little tyke. Maybe it’s been orphaned.”

The other teachers had begun to filter in, and soon enough, Albus had arrived, and brought the meeting to order. As they worked their way painstakingly through the agenda, Severus allowed his mind to wander. The Dark Lord had been quiet of late, and it was plaguing Severus’ every thought. The Order suspected that he was about to go on the offensive, and the stress and uncertainty had them all on edge. Finally, Dumbledore got through his discussion of security measures for the upcoming school year, and looked expectantly around the table. “Any new items?”

Minerva looked up. “With term starting in a week, I think that we need to do a reconfirmation of the wards. If there are any breakages, they could allow anyone in.”

Albus nodded. “That’s an excellent suggestion. Can I ask for volunteers to walk the boundaries of the wards?”

Severus cleared his throat. “I often walk the grounds in search of potions ingredients. It would be no hardship to check the wards as I go.”

“Thank you, Severus. If that’s all?”

Thankfully, there were no other items to discussed, and as the teachers cleared out, Severus heard Minerva say “…got an owl from Miss Granger... quite worried about him.” Severus retreated to his dungeons with a world-weary sigh. Whatever misadventure had plagued Harry Potter was none of his concern…at least not until Albus dragged him into it.

And so it was the next morning that Severus found himself at the front gates, prepared to walk the boundaries of the wards. It was clear, and the sun was just peeking over the horizon. Severus had no doubt that it would be warm later, but the air still carried a chill. He hefted a bag over his shoulders. Keeping the wards to his right side, a comforting thrum of magic, he set off in the direction of the Forbidden Forest.

It was several hours later when Severus stopped to investigate a promising patch of Belladonna. The berries weren’t quite firm, but he pulled a small notebook from his satchel, and noted the location for a future return. A twig snapped behind him, and Severus whirled around, wand in hand. 

Standing frozen, one delicate paw raised in the air, was a fox. It eyed him keenly, curious, but hesitant. Severus slowly dropped his wand hand and regarded the little creature. “Hello,” he said softly. “I imagine you’re Hagrid’s friend.”

When he spoke Hagrid’s name, the little fox tilted his head, almost as if he knew the name. Severus smiled. “This seems like a rather nice place for a cup of tea,” he continued. “You may join me, if you wish.” He removed his cloak and spread it on the ground, glad that the rising sun had dried the mist and was warm on his face. Settling down atop his cloak, he reached into his bag and removed a flask of tea and some sandwiches and biscuits that the house elves had packed for him this morning. Unwrapping a biscuit, he stretched his legs out and watched the fox with interest.

It remained where it had been, paw still in the air, watching him with focused intent. As the wrappings of his biscuit crinkled, it cocked its head. The smell of tea and biscuits reached it presently, and it sniffed the air in delight. Bright green eyes never leaving his, it took a tentative step in Severus’ direction. Severus sat calmly. The fox didn’t seem dangerous, although it was odd for a nocturnal creature to be out and about at this time of day. With painstaking slowness, the fox took another gentle step towards Severus. When some time passed and Severus didn’t seem to be presenting a threat, the little fox seemed to come to a resolution, and with delicate steps, approached him in earnest. As he reached the cloak, the fox sunk to its belly and averted its eyes. Severus broke off a piece of biscuit and slowly placed it on the edge of his cloak. The fox jumped a little at his movement, but when it noticed the biscuit, it pounced on it with glee and carried it a few steps away. 

The fox had obviously decided that it quite liked biscuits. After consuming the piece Severus had offered, it approached again, the tip of its tail wagging hopefully, making a soft whining sound. It looked healthy enough, but extremely small, and quite thin. Severus wondered if Hagrid were right, and this were an orphaned kit. With a wry smile, he removed another biscuit from its wrapping and set it on the edge of the cloak. It seemed that his fate in life were to look out for the orphans of the world. 

The fox seemed quite content with him now. As Severus removed a book from his bag, and sat in the sun, reading, the fox laid down a few feet away, chin on its paws, watching him. This lasted for nearly an hour, until a wayward grasshopper found its way onto Severus’ cloak. The fox’s eyes grew brighter and it avidly watched the insect, slowly moving closer, until it pounced on the grasshopper and crunched it down happily.

With a laugh, Severus packed away his things and stood. He brushed the grass from his cloak, and folded it away neatly. “Thank you for your company,” he said, “but if I don’t complete this work, the Headmaster won’t be best pleased.”

He strode off along the wards again without a second look back. A little while later, he happened to glance behind him, only to notice that the fox had been padding along behind him. “I’m not adverse to company,” he said. “Be sure to let me know if you feel any holes in the wards”

As sunset neared, Severus approached the front doors of the castle, satisfied with his accomplishments. He wasn’t finished; Hogwarts boasted an enormous grounds, and Severus couldn’t help himself from dawdling when he found a particularly interesting specimen of fauna or fungi. The Dark Lord’s lack of activity recently had provided him with an unusual amount of leisure time, and he was enjoying himself. 

With a glance behind him, he was surprised to see that the little fox still patiently trailed behind him. He had expected that it would follow him for a time, then, when it became clear that Severus wasn’t going to feed it anything further, they would part company. Other than a few episodes when it had bounced through the forest after an unsuspecting vole, the fox had been behind him the entire day. It had been such an uncharacteristically pleasant day, that Severus found himself a little wistful as he regarded the little creature. “As I doubt that Mister Filch would be pleased with me if I allowed you inside, I’m afraid that this is where we part company. Good luck, little one”. The fox seemed a little disappointed, and sat by the doors for a moment, as if hoping that Severus might change his mind. “Go to Hagrid,” he suggested. “I’m sure he’ll find a place for you to sleep comfortably, if that’s what you’re after”


	2. The Dungeon Bat's Familiar

The next morning, Severus rose before the dawn, reasoning that a view of the sunrise over the hills would further the almost holiday atmosphere he’d been experiencing while verifying the wards. As he slung his satchel over his shoulder and exited through the massive front doors, he was astonished to find the little fox waiting for him. “Good morning,” he said, as it approached him, low to the ground, looking hopeful. “You enjoyed the biscuit that much, did you?” The fox daintily hopped down the steps and turned to look back at him. When Severus merely stood where he was, the fox repeated the gesture, approaching him with belly to the ground, then turning and bouncing down the stairs, looking back with an impatient expression. “Very well,” Severus laughed. “If you’re that eager to get started, I suppose we’d better be on our way.”

The day passed in much the same way as the previous one, save for a moment of euphoria when Severus found a treasure trove of unicorn hair. He carefully collected it, humming happily to himself while the fox looked on. Its head was cocked and it looked bemused. “Judge not, fox,” he said, a little huffily. “If you knew how difficult it was to find this much unicorn hair at once. This has saved me hours of searching.” The fox gave a little yip and stretched.

As they were approaching the entrance to the castle again, mid-afternoon, Hagrid appeared from the direction of his hut. “Hullo Professor” he greeted cheerfully. “I see you’ve met the little ‘un.”

“Indeed. You’re right, it’s certainly tame.”

“He’s a bonny little fella’. Hate to think of him in the forest on his own.”

“Why don’t you take him in?”

“Can’t.” Hagrid scratched idly at his beard. “Fang didn’ take to ‘im at all. He’s a daft beast, won’ see reason, but he’ll rip the little fella’ to pieces if I take him in.”

“Shame,” Severus said thoughtfully. “He is rather small.”

“Why don’t you take him, Professor?”

“I think not, Hagrid. I’m not running a fox orphanage.”

Hagrid looked heartbroken. The fox had been looking back and forth at them during this exchange, rather like he was watching a tennis match. “Lookit him, though. It’s like he understands us.”

It _did_ rather look like the fox understood what was being discussed. It gave a little huff, and sank down to its haunches. “Be that as it may,” Severus said, “I have potions ingredients to inventory. Good afternoon, Hagrid.”

Severus strode up the steps and the doors to the castle opened. He entered without looking back at the fox, something he soon regretted, because it was quietly walking beside him, and slipped inside the castle along with him. The doors swung shut, and the fox continued down the corridor as though it belonged here. Severus hissed in annoyance. The fox gave him a slightly arch look and then blithely continued in the direction of the dungeons. “If Filch catches you, I’ll not come to your defence,” he warned it.

As he reached his quarters, the fox was patiently waiting outside the door. “Absolutely not,” he said firmly. “I may be willing to overlook some transgressions,” (the fox huffed at this) “but I’ll not be allowing you into my personal chambers. Go. There are likely plenty of mice for you to chase.” Severus was certain that foxes couldn’t roll their eyes, but it gave him an equivalent look and slipped quietly down the corridor.

All was serene, until Severus settled beneath his covers that night. He had nearly drifted off to sleep when he heard it. For a long while, he wasn’t at all sure what it was. It was as though a cat were mewing, but at an alarming volume that suggested someone had cast a Sonorus charm on the unsuspecting creature. The noise went on and on. Severus wasn’t frightened, although the sound did raise the hairs on the back of his neck. Finally, he realized, and with a snarl, he threw the covers back and stalked to his doorway. Flinging the door open, he glared down at the fox. “Stop howling at once,” he hissed at it. “I will not hesitate to hex you”. The fox looked a little startled. It opened its mouth as if to begin howling again, and Severus pointed a finger at it ominously. “Not. One. More. Sound,” he said darkly.

He flung the door shut with considerably more force than was necessary and stood, head against the door. There was a silence that extended, and Severus sighed with relief and returned to his bed. The moment his head hit the pillow, the howls resumed. “It’s not my fucking problem,” Severus growled, and cast a silencing spell that cut off the outside world, foxes and all, and allowed him to sleep.

This pattern continued as the weekend approached. The fox waited patiently (and sometimes very impatiently) outside his quarters, and followed him as he made his way through the castle. On the third such day, as Severus entered the Great Hall for breakfast, the fox brazenly walked beside him. “I think not,” he told it mildly, but foxes, it seemed, were rather stubborn creatures, and it proceeded as though it hadn’t heard him. 

As Severus took his seat, Albus and Minerva ceased their whispered conversation and regarded them. “Good morning,” Severus said stiffly, trying to ignore the fluffy orange beast that sat quietly on the floor beside him.

“Good morning, Severus,” Albus twinkled. “You seem to have a rather beautiful dining companion”

“We’re not together,” he said stiffly.

“The fox seems to think you are,” Minerva said. 

“He’s mistaken.”

Albus said nothing more, but his eyes twinkled a little. As the food arrived on the tables, the effect on the fox was instantaneous. Its eyes gleamed and its bushy tail wagged wildly. It gave out a low whine as it approached Severus on its belly. With a world-weary sigh, Severus plucked a slice of bacon from the platter and tossed it to the fox. Minerva laughed. “Not together,” she said under her breath.

Severus suffered the teasing of his colleagues over the next day with ill grace, but things came to a head over the dinner hour when Filch reached the end of his patience. “Headmaster,” he whined. “We can’t have vermin in the castle!”

Severus instinctively bristled at the terminology, but, as he didn’t want the fox around anyhow, kept silent.

“Argus,” Dumbledore soothed, “he doesn’t seem to be causing any damage. Surely you don’t object to Severus’ familiar”

“It’s not my familiar,” Severus protested.

“He seems pretty familiar to me,” Minerva said dryly. 

“Why don’t you take it?” Severus snarked back at her. “Or do cats not consort with foxes?”

“Headmaster…” Filch’s voice had reached a crescendo pitch as his whines continued. “It’s against the rules!”

“Enough!” Albus’ voice was firm. “Argus, the fox stays. He isn’t causing any harm.”

Filch stalked off down the corridor, muttering furiously to himself. The fox seemed pleased by the development, but was quickly distracted by a moth that flew by. As the fox stalked and eventually ate the moth, Severus watched in distaste. “I could banish it,” he said hopefully, but the twin gasps of shock from Albus and Minerva quelled him.

As the fox began its howling that night (two hours early, Severus noted), Severus reached his breaking point. He stomped to the door and flung it ajar. “You will silently sleep by the fire,” he said, furious at having been bested by something no bigger than a bludger. “You will not touch anything. You will not climb on the furniture. If you choose to disobey any of these instructions, I will apparate you to Canada, bleeding-heart Gryffindors be damned.” The fox seemed to understand, because it calmly walked inside towards the fireplace, turned three times, and settled down on the hearthrug, nose tucked beneath its tail.

On September first, Severus found himself arms-deep in lesson plans, and thus was nearly late for the sorting. As he strode quickly to the Great Hall (fox padding nimbly behind him) he heard a great chorus of excited voices. The students were back.

Squaring his shoulders, Severus made his way to the head table, ignoring the whispers of the students. It seemed that they were as charmed by the little fox as the teachers were. The fox largely ignored them, and sat next to Severus’ chair, tail thumping hopefully. 

Dinner passed without incident, but Severus noticed a conspicuous absence at the Gryffindor table. Granger’s eyes were red-rimmed and Weasley looked worried. As the prefects led the students to their dorms, Severus prepared himself for the typical start of term speech he gave in the Slytherin Common Room. As he was leaving the hall, however, Minerva’s arm on his sleeve stopped him. “Albus needs us in his office,” she said, her face pinched with worry.

“Potter?” He asked, resignedly.

“Potter,” she murmured back bleakly. Minerva and Severus shared a strong kinship, and their shared mission to keep the Potter boy alive to face another school year had created a galvanizing effect on their friendship. Now, as Harry entered his sixth year, they had developed a relationship that allowed them to communicate much with a raised eyebrow.

They rode the stairs up to Albus’ office in silence, Severus wondering what sort of mishap would be interrupting the peaceful holiday feeling he’d managed to cultivate over the summer. He looked at his watch. Five hours. Five hours into the term without a mishap. The fox, who, frankly, was his constant companion now, rode silently beside him. As they entered Albus’ office, the fox preceded him, and sat by the fire. Severus slouched into an armchair and irritably waved away the offer of a lemon drop.

“What?” He asked finally.

“It may have escaped your notice, but Mister Potter was not on the Hogwarts Express this afternoon.”

“Oh Albus,” Minerva said “Where do you think he’s gone? I told you we should have been looking for him when Miss Granger sent an owl last week.”

“What did Granger say?” Severus asked.

“She and Mister Weasley haven’t heard anything from Mister Potter since the first week of August. Since he often has issues communicating over the summer, I’d dismissed it as his relatives punishing him a little too enthusiastically, however this is worrisome.”

“What do his Muggles say?” Severus asked.

“We haven’t been able to reach them. There have been…issues with getting responses to owls sent to the Dursleys in the past. Severus, I’d like for you to accompany me to the Dursely’s house to speak with them.”

Severus sighed. “Very well. When?”

“Now, I think.”


	3. Number 4, Privet Drive

Severus stood and prepared to floo to the Leaky Cauldron, where they would be able to apparate to Surrey. Before he’d taken a step, he felt a soft touch around his ankle. The fox, forgotten to this point, was standing in front of him, regarding him sharply, one paw touching his shin. “You can’t come” he said. The fox huffed.

“Minerva, perhaps you could keep Severus’ familiar company while we’re gone?”

Minerva smiled at the creature, and Severus continued to the Floo.

The squat, unattractive home in Surrey looked exactly like all of the others on Privet Drive. Dumbledore’s heart really wasn’t in the transfiguration of his robes into Muggle-appropriate garb. Severus secretly wondered if he delighted in sporting the most garish combinations he could dream up. Severus had transfigured his robes into a pair of severe black trousers and a black button-up shirt, while Dumbledore sported an enormous paisley jumper and a pair of tartan knickerbockers. Severus shuddered. His day was strange enough without seeing Albus’ unadorned shins. He stuffed his wand into its holster as Albus knocked firmly on the door. Quite some time passed before an enormous man opened the door. “What?” He asked impatiently.

“Good evening Mister Dursley. May we come in?”

“Who are you?” The man looked at them sharply before he paled. “You’re from that freak school, aren’t you? Well get off my doorstep, we won’t be dealing with the lot of you anymore.”

“Mister Dursley, we have some questions.”

“I don’t care what you have. Get out of here before I call the police.”

Severus sneered. “You wouldn’t like what I’d do to you before they arrived.”

The man paled, but Dumbledore mildly said, “Severus." Severus scoffed and pushed the man aside, entering the sitting room. A tall thin woman came in, wiping her hands on a dishtowel.

When she realized who had arrived, she gasped. “Hello Tuney,” Severus said, with an unpleasant smile.

“You’re that dirty freak boy who polluted my little sister’s mind. Get out of my house,” she spat.

“Certainly. Once you tell me where your nephew is.”

Her face darkened. “He’s gone.”

“Gone where?”

“As if he’d tell me. He just left one day, without saying a word to any of us. Left all of his freak possessions here.”

Severus took a deep breath. “So, you’re telling me, that your sixteen year-old nephew, the boy who you have been charged to care for, left with no warning, leaving all of his belongings behind?” She nodded. “When?”

“I don’t remember.”

Severus leapt to his feet, wand drawn, before anyone could react. “I’d advise you to think very carefully about your responses, Petunia. Neglect is a very serious charge, even in the Muggle world.”

“You don’t scare me!”

“Oh, you should be very, very frightened,” Severus replied in low tones. Petunia paled further. “When. Did your nephew. Disappear?”

“About t-three weeks ago,” she stammered.

“And you chose not to tell anyone?” Dumbledore’s voice had lost its normally pleasant tone. “Mrs Dursley, you know that your nephew is not safe out in the world. You know the consequences if he is harmed.”

“I thought he was with you!”

Dumbledore exchanged a look with Severus, and he pointed his wand at her nose. Petunia squeaked in alarm. “ _Legimens_ ,” he intoned, looking deeply into her eyes. The visions within her brain were unpleasant: Slamming the door to a tiny cupboard, the pitiful wails of a toddler coming from within. A small boy, cuffed on the ear for burning the breakfast. Petunia’s own voice, calling the child a freak, bemoaning that they’d ever been saddled with such a burden. Petunia battering the boy with a broom handle until he sunk to the floor and huddled in a ball. It went on and on, and by the time Severus reached Petunia’s discovery of a bedroom devoid of occupancy, he felt ill. This went beyond neglect. This was far more than idle resentment of a child not asked for. This was torture. Removing himself from her vile mind with a shudder, Severus looked at Albus. “She’s not lying, although she’s a loathsome creature, and I can’t understand what you were thinking leaving a child here. Potter disappeared three weeks ago, leaving behind all of his belongings.”

“Did he take his wand?”

“I’m uncertain, Headmaster. We should examine his room.”

They climbed the stairs to a door that bore several padlocks, and a slot in the bottom. Severus was reminded of a prison cell, where food was shoved through a slit in the door. With a soft “ _Alohomora_ ”, the door swung open. Severus’ heart sunk further. To call the room depressing was an understatement. A small mattress was in the corner, devoid of sheets, pillows, or any comfort. There were no personal items whatsoever. Severus was unsure whether it was because the boy didn’t own any, or if he’d taken them with him. A tidy pile of worn-looking clothing sat in one corner, and an empty owl cage was in the other. Severus wondered if Harry had taken his owl with him when he’d finally fled this place. If, indeed, he **had** fled.

Severus spied a loose floorboard, and, recalling his own boyhood, pried the board up from the floor. Inside, was a journal, Harry’s wand, a broken shard of mirror, and a battered looking parchment. He again reached into the cache, feeling a smooth fabric. As he pulled it from the hole, he realized what he was looking at…or rather, wasn’t looking at.

“The boy has an invisibility cloak?” he asked, irritated in spite of himself. 

“Not now, Severus. It’s extremely worrisome that he didn’t take his wand with him. Is there anything of note in the journal?”

Severus opened the pages of the journal, and turned to the last entry. It read:

_August 5, 1996_

_I think that I’m getting so close to achieving the transformation. Just think, by this time next week, I might be an animagus, just like my Dad and Siri!_

_Things have gotten worse around here. I had to send Hedwig to the Burrow yesterday. They haven’t fed me in a week, and I’m concerned that if she doesn’t eat soon, she’ll be too weak to escape. It’s so quiet without her though. Vernon decided I’d missed a patch of grass when I mowed the lawn this morning. I managed to escape having my arm broken, but it was a near thing. I don’t dare tell Ron and Hermione about what’s happening here…they’ll just complicate matters. I figure Dumbledore must have some reason for me to be beaten and starved, right? Surely there’s a point to all this suffering, even if it’s just to more finely hone me as his weapon? I wish that Sirius were still around. I’m likely fooling myself to think that he’d be able to help me, honestly, he was more of a kid than Ron is, but it’s a nice thought. Three more weeks, and I’ll be back home at Hogwarts. I hope I survive it._

_This is why I have to figure out the animagus thing. That way, if it gets too bad, I’ll just transform and go hide somewhere. I’m pretty sure that I’ll be faster than Vernon in my animal form._

“Albus” Severus said. “How much did you know?”

“I worried,” Albus admitted. “Even a boy as clumsy as Mister Potter seemed suspiciously marked up at the completion of each summer. I asked him repeatedly if he wanted to tell me something, but he never did. He told me that his cousin and he liked to roughhouse. Like a fool, I took him at his word, trusted that if it got to be too much, he’d tell me”

“Did you ever ask him more directly? Did you ever send anyone to inspect his living conditions?” Severus knew that he hadn’t…If Dumbledore had wanted an inspection done, he’d have asked Severus himself.

“No.” Albus’ voice was quiet.

“Harry wrote in his journal that you were honing him as a weapon. If that’s the way he saw things, he’d never have complained”. It galled Severus a little to be standing up for James Potter’s son, but abuse was something that hit close to home for him. It was why his snakes knew that they could come to him for protection if things were difficult at home. 

“I can’t figure out why he’s a Gryffindor, though,” Albus said thoughtfully.

Severus raised an eyebrow at him wryly. “Really?”

“Well, yes, of course Harry’s obvious qualities make him a very believable Gryffindor, but the hat knows that abused children go to Slytherin. It’s a protection measure. The qualities of Slytherin house are such that a child with family troubles will find a family of his own in Slytherin house. It’s the reason why you’re their Head of House. This shouldn’t have happened.” Albus put his hands over his face. His eyes were moist, and he looked haunted. “I’ve failed him, Severus. Over and over, I’ve failed him. And now he’s gone.” 

“I’m not certain that’s true. What if he managed to find his animagus form?”

“But Severus, how could he possibly have made it to Scotland?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s curious that an extremely precocious fox arrived at Hogwarts not long after this entry was written. Of course I could be wrong, Albus, but you know how I feel about coincidence.”

“You might be right at that, Severus. Meanwhile, I don’t think we’ll find any additional answers here. Let’s pack up Harry’s things and return them to the castle. Even if he’s not already there, he’ll never be returning here again.”

“Tuney!” Severus said sharply. “Where would we find Harry’s trunk, and his schoolbooks?”

An alarmed squeak from the hallway identified where Harry’s Aunt was. Wordlessly, she pointed downstairs. “C-cupboard” she stammered. Under the stairs, a cupboard, with just as many padlocks on it, sat innocuously. Severus spelled it open, and peered inside. A battered school trunk was there, certainly, but it was the other things inside that gave Severus pause. A small pallet lay on the floor. Like the mattress in Harry’s bedroom, this one was devoid of sheets, pillows or blankets, but looking closer, Severus noted a number of dark stains that could only be blood. Adorning the walls were a series of childish drawings. An enormous man with a hairy face, a crudely drawn motorcycle. A tall figure dressed in black, holding a stick, green lightning bolts extending from the end. This had been Harry’s bedroom for a time, Severus realized.

He levitated the trunk from the cupboard, the nausea from earlier returning in full force. Underpinning the sickness though, was a quiet, deadly force of rage. Severus looked at Petunia, who was cringing against the wall. “You were always a vicious creature, Tuney,” Severus said quietly. “but I can’t imagine how twisted you have to be to treat your own flesh and blood this way. Did you enjoy getting revenge on your smarter, prettier sister? Do you feel like you won?”

Her thin face twisted. “Oh yes, my perfect sister, perfect Lily. You always did have a crush on her, not that she ever gave you the time of day. She was as unnatural and wrong as you are, Severus Snape, and I curse the day her freakish son darkened my doorstep. I did my duty. I kept him alive. How dare you judge me?”

“I don’t need to judge you, Tuney. Lily, I’m certain, already has. She’d be so disappointed in you. What have you become?” Severus’ voice was soft. He’d never liked the woman standing in front of him, but he was truly shocked that she could justify her actions so. “Albus, let’s go. There’s no reason to stay”

“There’s just one more thing we need to do,” Albus said firmly. The twinkle was absent from his eyes, and he looked at Petunia with distaste. “Mrs Dursley, I warned you that you were to keep Harry from harm. I told you about the blood wards that had been erected to protect him. To find out that you’ve not only ignored your responsibilities, but also that you’ve actively hurt Harry…well, I’m afraid that that the blood wards will reap what you have sown.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“Do you recall the letter I left you, when I entrusted Harry to your care? I said that any harm that befell him would be visited upon you as well.”

“But…but...”

“No, this is beyond my control, I’m afraid. The moment we leave here with the last of Harry’s things, every ounce of suffering that Harry experienced will be visited upon the one you love the most. I’m afraid that your son is in for quite an unpleasant time. He will feel every injury, every bout of loneliness, every insult. Good luck to you, for I’m afraid that you’ll need it.” Albus turned to Severus. “Shall we?”

As they walked to an apparation point, Severus turned to Albus. “I didn’t realize that blood wards such as you described were possible”

“They aren’t,” he said mildly. “But I know a spell, very old magic. I may have wronged Harry by leaving him here, but Petunia’s actions can’t go unpunished either. Let’s go fox hunting, Severus”


	4. Severus Snape, Fox Minder

Upon return to the castle, Severus and Albus found Minerva in her room, reviewing student timetables and muttering under her breath. As they entered the room, she looked up hopefully, only for her face to fall when she saw that there were only two of them. “Oh” she said softly. “He wasn’t there either?”

“We have reason to believe that Harry is within the castle. Minerva, what can you tell us of the Animagus charm?”

Minerva gasped. “You think Harry’s become an Animagus? I suppose it’s not out of the question…after all, his father…but it’s very complicated. What do you suppose…”. Minerva seemed to be thinking out loud, because her words provided nothing of value to Severus.

“Perhaps you could finish one sentence before starting another?” He suggested mildly.

“Oh hush. As I was saying” she continued with a half-hearted glare in Severus’ direction. “it’s entirely possible that Harry is strong enough, magically, to perform the charm. Usually, taking one’s Animagus form is something done with support from a Mentor. Otherwise, there’s the risk that someone could transform, but be unable to determine how to transform back. If Harry were learning this on his own, he may have become stuck in his animal form…” she trailed off, looking in the direction of the fireplace, where a snoozing fox was curled in a tiny ball. “Oh Harry,” she said, in the mixture of affection and aggravation that Severus had been hearing for the past six years. “Harry,” she said sharply, quite loudly, causing the two men to jump a little. The fox sat rigidly upright and looked at her keenly. “Harry Potter.” The fox’s head tilted at this and he rose and nimbly stepped over to her, watching her closely, before turning back to the fire and laying back down.

“That doesn’t seem exactly promising” Albus remarked.

“No, it’s worrisome. I think we can safely say that this fox is indeed our missing young man. But if he’s been in his animagus form for a number of days, it becomes problematic”

“How so?” Severus wondered. He’d always been curious about the Animagus spell, but his current workload, with Masters Dark and Light, didn’t allow him the time required to study it properly.

“When one transforms into an animal self, the thought process is very different. Simpler. The animal is capable of awareness, holds memory of who they are, but it’s secondary to instinct. The longer one stays in animal form, the less likely they are to utilize their human thought processes. If I had been guiding Mister Potter on the day he managed his transformation, his human mind could have listened to, and understood, my instructions on how to transform back. Now, three weeks later, it’s likely that he’s operating primarily on animal instinct. He doesn’t have the ability to register what I might say to him.”

“It’s arguable that he’s never possessed that ability,” Severus murmured, sotto voce.

Albus gave him a sharp look. “Try to be constructive, Severus. Minerva, can anything be done?”

“He’ll need to be continuously reoriented to human pursuits. He should stay within the castle, sleep in a bed, be encouraged to eat from a plate. I don’t think that these things will improve anything, mind you, but it might slow his instincts from taking over completely.”

Severus was deep in thought. “What about the Mandrake Restorative Draught?” He asked suddenly. “It’s used to reverse petrification, as you know, but I recall reading something about a modified version used to reverse other sorts of transformations. I’ll need to do more research.”

“Excellent,” Dumbledore looked delighted.

“But what about Harry? In the meantime, he’ll need to have someone taking care of him.”

“He seems to enjoy spending time in the dungeons,” Albus began, but Severus glared at him.

“Absolutely not. I will not be a babysitter, Albus. I refuse. Minerva, certainly you-“

“Severus, he’s already bonded to you. It would take far too long to entice him to bond with me. Surely he’s tolerable in his current form?” Minerva fondly smiled at the fox.

Severus wanted to punch something, or to cast the strongest Reducto he could on Minerva’s tartan tea set. Instead, he sighed, cast a long-suffering look of pain at his two colleagues and said “Come, Potter”. The fox cocked his head at Severus’ voice, and padded over quickly, standing close to Severus’ robes. If Severus slammed the door to Minerva’s study on his way out, well, it couldn’t be helped.

Severus immediately pulled down an ancient-looking herbology book, as well as a number of back issues of Potions Monthly. He knew he’d read the article recently. The fox had been watching him during this endeavour, but, satisfied that he wasn’t going to feed him, or stroke him, had settled in an armchair. Severus was about to hiss at him to get off the furniture when he remembered that Minerva had said he needed to continue to be reoriented to people behaviour. _Not that he behaved much like a human before_ , he smirked to himself.

As he went to bed that night, he noticed that Harry was comfortably still asleep in the armchair. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to accio a blanket from the linens store and cover him, but the fox huffed appreciatively, and buried his nose under the cover.

It was nearly dinnertime the next day when Severus found what he was looking for. In between classes, he’d been scouring his research materials, and finally found it: a modified Restorative Draught that would reverse transformations and restore someone to their original form. The issue lay in the specific timing involved. While the Draught used to restore someone who’d been petrified required adult Mandrakes, this potion required the Mandrakes to be adolescents. It was time to visit Pomona. “Harry,” Severus called sharply. “Come.” The little fox looked up eagerly. He’d woken from his nap about an hour ago, and had been gambolling about Severus’ quarters since then. After he’d knocked an expensive set of scales from his bookshelf, Severus had transfigured a bouncy ball out of a piece of parchment, and Harry had amused himself chasing it around. He’d been delighted when Severus had thrown it for him, and Severus was unsure whether the game had been encouraging Harry to be more human or more fox-like. He vowed to ask Rolanda for a training snitch. Severus pinched the bridge of his nose and, not for the first time, questioned the type of world he lived in, where he was encouraging James Potter’s son to pursue his Quidditch obsession.

Pomona was wrestling with the Venomous Tentacula when Severus and Harry arrived in Greenhouse Eight. Literally. After he’d managed to free the plump little witch from the plant’s clutches, he explained the situation, and mentioned that he’d need three sturdy adolescent Mandrake plants. “Oh dear,” she said. “The Mandrakes suffered from root rot over the summer. I lost the whole lot of them. I’ve planted more, but they’re just babies still. It will be at least three weeks, Severus”

Severus took a deep, calming breath, followed by another. “Why,” he asked quietly “Do we have such a hard time keeping Mandrakes around this school? Considering that this isn’t the first time we’ve needed a restorative draught?”

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” Pomona snapped defensively. “Tell Albus that I need a better irrigation system. It’s too much work for one person, Severus. Besides,” she shot back. “Why don’t you have restorative draughts brewed and ready at all times?”

“I apologize,” he replied, placing a calming hand on his colleague’s arm. “I am overwrought from having the Chosen Fox living in my quarters. I did not mean to take it out on you.”

“He’s a cute little thing,” she observed bemusedly, watching Harry stalk down the aisles after a frog. Getting closer, he paused, his rear in the air, tail twitching in anticipation. As he pounced, the frog croaked in alarm, and hopped speedily away, Harry in hot pursuit.

“He’s more tolerable than in his human form,” Severus allowed. The frog disappeared under a potting bench and Severus heard the faint sound of clay pots shattering on the floor. “Duty calls,” he sighed and made his way in search of his errant charge.

After managing to coerce the fox away from the frog and outside again, Severus headed off towards the Quidditch pitch. Rolanda was likely to be there, making her way through the annual service of the school brooms. They’d nearly made it when Harry disrupted a vole from its slumber. It squeaked in surprise, and set off across the open field. Again, Harry gave chase, and Severus shouted his name in alarm. Harry was alight with the joy of the pursuit, however, and didn’t give Severus a single glance as he sped off after the creature.

Severus had begun aiming an arresto momentum when the sound of a cry from overhead chilled his blood. High in the clouds was an enormous Golden Eagle. It spotted Harry and wheeled into a dive so quickly Severus’ breath caught. If it hadn’t been about to kill and eat the Saviour of the Wizarding World, it would have been beautiful. As it was, Severus watched, horror struck, as the Eagle sped towards Harry. The young fox froze as the shadow passed over him, and slunk into the grass. He was wide open, with no place to hide. Severus cast stunners at the winged creature as quickly as he could, but the bird was incredibly fast, and it took Severus some time to adjust his aim for its speed.

Frantic, Severus continued to cast, hoping that a shield charm would work on a non-magical creature. It wouldn’t, it turned out. The bird swept over Harry, seized him in its razorsharp talons and flapped enormous wings, carrying Harry off into the sky. Sweating, heart pounding, Severus took a breath, aimed, cast a desperate prayer to Merlin and Morgana and anyone else who might be listening, and just as the bird was nearly out of spellshot, landed a stunning spell. The effect on the bird was instantaneous, and it released its grip on Harry immediately. Despite his frantic cushioning spells, the little fox hit the ground hard, and was still.

“I’m sorry Lily,” Severus whispered, throat tight as he raced across the field to where the little animal lay. As he reached Harry’s side, he took a calming breath, and examined the damage. Harry’s breath was coming fast, shallow little pants that made Severus’ own breath hitch. Harry’s eyes were glazed and pain-filled, and the puncture marks from the Eagle’s talons were steadily leaking blood. “Harry,” Severus whispered. “Be calm. I have you, and I’ll take care of you.”

He sent his Patronus to Poppy, and gathered the tiny creature into his arms. The fox looked at him trustingly, green eyes dark with pain and fear. He shushed it comfortingly, and walked as quickly as he could without jarring the creature, headed towards the Hospital Wing.

Poppy shouted in alarm when he arrived with the bleeding fox. “Professor Snape! This is a hospital”

Severus cast a quick eye around the ward, to ensure that no other children were present. “This is a student,” he said quietly.

“Which student?” She asked suspiciously.

“Which student do you think?” He asked, voice a little despairing.

“Put him in his usual bed. And call Hagrid. I don’t know how to care for foxes.”

Severus did so, and the Matron bustled about, casting diagnostic scans. “I have no idea whether his heart rate and breathing are normal, but it seems whatever cut him up managed to miss his organs,” she muttered. “He’s broken a leg though.”

“Can we give Skele-grow to foxes?” Severus wondered aloud.

“I’m sure I don’t know,” she answered in frustration. “Where _is_ that giant? Just once,” she ranted, summoning a basin and cloths “I’d like to get through the first week of school without having to deal with one of Harry Potter’s antics.”

“I know the feeling,” Severus replied, just as, from the doorway, he heard the sound of a gasp.

“Harry Potter?” It was Granger, her red-headed counterpart in tow. “That’s Harry? You found him?”

“He found us,” Severus answered. “But he’s been hurt.”

“Oh Harry,” Granger said softly. “Honestly. Why is he a fox, exactly?”

“It seems that Mister Potter has been working on his Animagus abilities.” 

Severus was mid-way through the story when the door flew open with a bang, and Hagrid came crashing in. “Harry!” He cried, his voice thick, as though he’d been crying. Severus supposed he likely had. _Big baby_ , he thought scornfully. “Let me through!” Hagrid was pushing past Weasley and Granger as though his own child lay dead on the ground. Miss Granger, in particular, flew rather pertly against a wall, Severus noticed, hastily hiding his glee. The giant knelt against the cot, enormous hand stroking the fox’s fur gently. “Poor little tyke,” he murmured. “Don’ worry, Harry. We’ll get you fixed up, the Professor and I.”

Between Madame Pomphrey and Hagrid, they determined that Harry was likely not gravely injured. Hagrid suggested some poutices that would aid in healing, and Poppy cast a strengthening spell for Harry’s heart. By the time curfew had rolled around, the fox had been released to Severus’ care. Granger and Weasley were sworn to secrecy: It would do no good for any Death Eater’s child to realize that Harry was a relatively defensive injured fox. Severus carried the little bundle back to his chambers. The fox lay still and quiet in his arms.

As he sat by the fire, somehow unable to set Harry down, he stroked his soft fur. Harry had been sleeping during the entire journey from the Hospital Wing, but now the green eyes opened and regarded him thoughtfully. Severus stared back at the little creature, wondering what sort of fox thoughts Harry was having. The moment stretched on, fox and man gazing at one another. “I’m sorry I didn’t keep you safe,” Severus whispered softly. Harry blinked in surprise at the voice that had broken the silent exchange of gazes, but he didn’t stop looking into Severus’ eyes. Finally, Harry seemed to realize that the hand stroking his back had stopped moving. He wriggled a little, finally nudging Severus’ hand with his pointed, cold nose. Realizing, Severus found himself smiling as he stroked the fox from nose to tail. Making a happy chirruping noise, Harry settled into Severus’ lap as though there were no place he’d rather be.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone that your family was mistreating you?” Severus asked him, rubbing behind the velvety ears. “Did you think that no one would help you?” His guilt had reached a breaking point, and Severus was deeply ashamed that he’d been one of many who had harmed Lily’s boy. “I’ll keep you safe going forward, Harry,” he whispered.

That night, after Severus had changed Harry's dressings, he gathered several soft blankets and placed them by the fire for Harry to sleep in. Harry regarded them suspiciously. “Go on,” Severus encouraged. “You need to be comfortable while you’re recovering.” Harry sniffed the blankets. One of them was one that Severus himself used while stealing a few moments of rest on his sofa. He noticed that Harry buried himself into that one. It _was_ a very comfortable blanket.

Severus got beneath the covers of his own bed, and sleep overtook him almost immediately. It was some hours later that he awoke with a start, instinctively grabbing his wand. As his eyes struggled to adjust to the dark, he heard a tiny noise. Freezing, his panicked eyes followed the noise to the floor beside his bed. As awareness began to flood him, he cast lumos, relieved that he’d **not** been awoken by red snakelike eyes, aware of his betrayal. Sitting patiently on the floor beside his bed, was Harry. He was breathing fast, as though the effort to leave his comfy bed by the fire had been too much exertion.

“What do you need, Potter?” Severus snapped, the adrenaline of his fright still coursing through his veins. The green eyes that met his were beseeching, and it didn’t take much to realize what he was asking. Severus sighed. “No,” he said firmly. “It’s inappropriate enough to have you in my quarters at all. And I don’t share my bed, not even with the Chosen One.”

Harry’s head tilted, as though he was trying to understand. “Go,” Severus ordered. “Get back to your bed”. It was the middle of the night, and he was arguing with a fox about whether it could sleep in his bed. Not for the first time, Severus strung together in his head the foulest curse words he could think of, projecting his hate onto Albus. Why did the Headmaster always put him in situations like these? What had his life become? With a roar of fury, Severus leapt from the bed, startling Harry, and causing him to skitter away, only to collapse to the floor with a cry of pain. Despite all appearances to the contrary, Severus wasn’t a cruel man, and he instantly felt guilty for allowing his charge to come to harm, again. He hastened to the little fox’s side, examining him for additional injury. When it became evident that Harry wasn’t further injured, just feeling the effects of a traumatic day, he felt relief wash over him like a warm shower. 

“Alright,” he said soothingly. “I’m sorry, Potter. I can’t begin to imagine what’s prompted you to want to sleep here, but I’m too tired, and too far down this mad rabbit hole to spend any further time arguing with you. Let’s just get some sleep.” He picked up the little animal, and gently carried him into his bed. 

When he awoke the following morning, the fox was curled as tightly into his side as was possible. Hoping, rather too late, that the creature didn’t have fleas, he quickly exited the bed, his sense of propriety injured at cuddling with Harry Potter. His hasty leap from the mattress woke the fox who blinked stupidly (Severus told himself firmly that it _wasn’t_ adorable) before languidly stretching and shaking his fur out. With a happy chirp, he bounced across the bed. Seeming to enjoy the way the mattress propelled him, he proceeded to leap across the bed in the opposite direction before burrowing under the covers. A tiny nose peeped out from the blanket on the the opposite side of the bed. Severus tapped his foot impatiently. “Feeling better?” he drawled in pseudo-annoyance. In truth, his relief that he hadn’t managed to get the Chosen One killed by an eagle made him feel much more indulgent to the fox’s antics. That is, until the fox spied his tapping foot, and pounced on it, sharp teeth sinking into the tender flesh of his ankle. “That will do!” He howled, picking the fox up by the scruff of the neck and carrying him into the sitting room, wondering idly whether his professor counterparts in the Muggle world were often were bitten by their students.


	5. De-Foxing a Gryffindor

Time is a relative construct. A week spent on a sunny beach with a loved one can pass in the blink of an eye, while a Gryffindor/Slytherin fourth-year double Potions class could feel endless. Severus found it strange that three weeks of fox-sitting had seemed unbearable at its inception, but, when the Mandrakes had finally reached adolescence, he couldn’t remember what it had been like before his four-legged companion had joined him.

The students of Hogwarts had adopted Harry as a beloved pet. Severus’ class had never been so popular. One day, when taking attendance in his first year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class, he’d been confused to find an extra student. After some hasty recounting, he realized that a third year had snuck into the class, just to spend some extra time stroking Harry’s soft ears. He’d angrily kicked the student out, but even Severus found himself idly stroking the little fox, who often lazed on his desk while he marked papers. 

The Gryffindors in particular, adored the little fox, and could be found throwing balls for him for hours. They’d christened the creature ‘Flash’, as his speed was truly impressive. After Harry had knocked over a stand of potions he’d been cooling for Madame Pomphrey one day, Severus had threatened the students with certain death if he caught them throwing anything further in his lab. Even Harry had seemed to know he’d done wrong. He slunk low to the ground, ears back. He crawled up to Severus quietly, once Severus had set the class to work. As Severus glared down at him, he rolled onto his back, displaying a soft little belly in subservience. “If only you were this docile all the time,” he whispered down to the fox, scooping him up and placing him onto his desk. “Try to behave yourself for the rest of the day, will you?” Harry gave him a little chirp and nuzzled Severus’ hand with his snout. “Fine.” He whispered with a weary sigh. “You’re forgiven. This time. Honestly, I’m going soft.”

Finally, the Mandrake roots had finally dried sufficiently, and Severus immersed himself in brewing the potion. Harry was ensconced in Minerva’s office; Severus couldn’t risk him in the lab while he was brewing this potion. As he added the lacewing flies and stirred a dozen times anti-clockwise, he realized he was holding his breath. Despite having grown tolerant of the little fox who was his constant companion, this _had_ to work. He had to restore Harry to his human form. Severus set a timer and reduced the flame. 

In the past, a slightly more cynical Severus would have said that this was important because of Harry’s importance to the war efforts. Or, that he was doing his duty because Albus had willed it of him. Now, he realized that he was doing it out of a simple desire to help Harry. He was a heartless bastard most of the time, he admitted, but he could see that he’d been unfair to Harry in the past. He owed it to Lily, owed it Harry himself, to try to make amends. He was certain that, once restored to human form, Harry would continue hating him just as much as he had previously. Regardless, Severus vowed to be different.

When the potion was ready, Severus sent a Patronus to find Minerva. He didn’t know what to expect of Harry when he regained his human form, but he figured, at worst, he’d have someone experienced in Animagus transformation, to help him calm Harry down, and at best, having Harry’s Head of House present to read him the riot act would prevent him from transforming on his own again. Irritatingly, Minerva and Harry arrived with Albus in tow, but he knew better than to think that Albus would ignore the situation, considering it involved his Chosen One. _His weapon_ , Severus’ mind supplied helpfully. Banishing the thought to pursue later, he bade Minerva and Albus entry, and became thoughtful. “Minerva” he said. “Any idea how to get a potion into a fox?”

“What do you mean? You spoke with Poppy about a potions regimen for him when he was injured. How have you been getting him to take those?”

“It has been,” he pondered his words carefully “not without challenge”. He didn’t want to explain that 'potion-time' involved chasing a nearly frantic Harry around his quarters, immobilizing the wriggling fox by wrapping a blanket around him, and most of the contents of the vial ending up in Harry’s fur, or on Severus’ robes. “It appears that Mister Potter dislikes the taste of potions. This one is stronger than most.”

Albus was positively vibrating with amusement, and Severus was wondered if he’d cast some type of subtle Legimens on him and witnessed his previous antics. “I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Severus.”

“That’s all well and good,” Severus snapped, “but we can’t afford to waste even an ounce of the potion. If he’s given a partial dose, it might not be effective. I can’t imagine what a partial transformation would entail.”

“Minerva, do you think it would be helpful to be there to comfort Harry in your own form?”

“Not really,” she said flatly. “I don’t speak fox, and I’ve never met a fox who didn’t want to fight me. Severus, you’ll have to hold him still, and I’ll administer the potion.” 

Severus couldn’t think of a better plan, but internally bemoaned the waste of ingredients that would inevitably befall them. He regarded Harry, who’d been earnestly scratching behind his ear with his hind foot. Noting that he was the subject of scrutiny, he ceased and looked at Severus with interest. “Come, Harry,” he said softly. Harry bounded over to him, causing Minerva and Albus to exchange a look that Severus couldn’t decipher. He picked up the fox, and whispered softly to him. “I need you to trust me, little one. I have told you that I won’t hurt you, and this is very, very important. You won’t like the taste, but I need you to trust me, and I need you to drink all that is given to you.”

Harry regarded him solemnly, but didn’t struggle. Severus stroked the velvet fur between his ears, and gathered him marginally more firmly. “Now, Minerva,” he said quietly. Harry sniffed the eyedropper full of potion suspiciously and sneezed. His eyes strayed to Severus’. “You have to,” he said firmly. With a gentle hand, he opened the little jaws and allowed Minerva to place the contents of the dropper onto Harry’s tongue. “One more,” Severus said, frankly astounded that Harry was being as docile as he was. Surprisingly, the second dropperful was consumed as easily as the first, although Harry sneezed a half dozen times after swallowing.

The fox’s muscles tensed all at once, and before he knew what was happening, Severus had an armful of teenager. An armful of naked teenager. Blushing furiously, Severus summoned a blanket and covered Harry, but not before all three professors got rather more of an eyeful of the Saviour than they’d expected. Once his modesty was protected, Severus looked down at the boy, who was blinking owlishly around. Realizing that he likely couldn’t see well without his glasses, Severus said gently, “Potter, remain calm. You are utterly safe.” The green eyes widened, and his brow furrowed in confusion. He opened his mouth, and emitted a little squeak before registering that he was being held. He squeaked again, and scrambled to the floor, losing his blanket again, and treating the teaching staff to a view of a pert backside as he scrambled into a corner and huddled low to the ground. 

“Harry,” Albus said. “How are you feeling, my boy?” Albus was, of course, ignored. “Oh dear,” he said. “It seems that Harry isn’t feeling like himself.”

“Minerva, any ideas?” Severus asked, ignoring the Headmaster, who really hadn’t added anything helpful to the proceedings, so far.

“Not really,” she admitted. “While he’s panicking like this, we’ll never get through to him, and having all three of us here is probably making things worse. I think we should leave. Try to get him to calm down, and perhaps he would benefit from some rest.” She tugged on Albus’ arm and headed towards the doors. “And try to get some clothing on him, would you?”

Severus rolled his eyes at her before regarding the frantic figure huddling in the corner. He thought it interesting that Harry had displayed no fear as a timid fox, but was petrified as a powerful Wizard. Harry was whining softly, his terror making him pant softly as he keened. “Harry,” Severus said softly. “Don’t be frightened. You’re safe, Harry. There is nothing here that will harm you.” His words seemed to have an effect , as Harry tilted his head and listened. Severus took a tentative step towards him, and Harry tensed, eyes darting around for an exit. Hastily, Severus cast strong wards on the doors. All he needed was a panicked, feral, _naked_ Harry Potter running through the castle. “Don’t be frightened,” he repeated. “I will wait until you’ve calmed yourself.” With that, Severus slowly lowered himself to the floor, and accio’ed his lesson plans. It was likely to be a long night, and he figured he might as well get some work done. 

Perhaps a half hour passed, Severus tutting under his breath at how his third-year Hufflepuff’s would likely perform in tomorrow’s lesson. He felt a touch on his thigh, and saw that Harry had approached him. He slunk low on his belly, as Severus cringed at the effect the stone floors would have on Harry’s now-human skin. His front hand was extended tentatively, draped on his thigh, just as Harry’s fox’s paw would get his attention previously. Severus tensed. While Harry had been a fox, it hadn’t seemed at all inappropriate to stroke his back, but now in his naked, human form, Severus was deeply uncomfortable.

And yet. It was clear that, disoriented and terrified, Harry was desperate for a familiar touch. And allowing him to become more upset would likely result in a hysterical naked student scrambling about his rooms for the rest of the night. With a resigned huff, Severus stroked the unruly hair back from Harry’s eyes. As his hand made contact, Harry visibly relaxed, the tensed muscles letting go, even if his eyes remained wide. Harry nuzzled closer and pressed his forehead into Severus’ hand. “Okay, Harry,” Severus whispered, as Harry climbed into his lap. He fell asleep almost instantly. Severus carried him (how was he so light?) into his own quarters. He managed to get a pair of flannel sleep pants on him, heartily thanking the deities for magic the entire time, lest someone find out that he’d been dressing a naked student in his bedchambers. As he tucked the sleeping Wizard under the blankets, he conjured a chair and set himself up for a long night.

When morning dawned, stiff-necked and gritty-eyed, Severus regarded his sleeping charge. He was curled into an impossibly small ball, chin tucked into his chest. His face was a bit flushed, and dark eyelashes lay in a thick curtain across his cheeks. He was utterly relaxed, and Severus realized that, even before this whole animagus affair had begun, he’d rarely seen Harry without a tense, wary look. It explained his cheekiness some…a cornered animal always fought back, and Severus was beginning to suspect just how often Harry felt hunted. As if he were aware of Severus’ scrutiny, Harry’s stretched languidly, and his eyes blinked open, squinting in the gloom at Severus. He regarded him for a full beat, before looking around and taking stock of his surroundings. “Sss..Sss”. He was trying to speak, but seemed unable to muster the words.

“It’s alright, Harry. You have been in your animagus form for quite a long time, and it is to be expected that it will take a while for you to be able to recall your human self. Try to be patient. Professor McGonagall and I will be here to help you”

He wondered whether Harry would be able to comprehend what he was saying, but remained quietly sitting in his uncomfortable chair to let him work it out. As Harry’s breathing slowed, and the terror left his wide eyes, Severus rose. Harry tensed, but Severus said “Don’t be frightened. I am going to go and take a shower. You may remain here, or you may go into the sitting room.” When Harry made no move, Severus simply left the room. He’d been sitting up all night, and felt grubby. When he emerged from under the spray, he heard it, and sighed. Harry was howling.

He dressed quickly, then opened the door, and Harry tumbled into him, obviously having pressed himself against the wood as tightly as he could. “Harry,” he said softly. “Were you frightened?” So great was Harry’s distress, that Severus didn’t stop to consider his response. He gathered the slight man into his arms and held him tightly. Harry’s howls stopped, and he nuzzled the bottom of Severus’ chin with his forehead. “It’s alright,” Severus soothed.

What he wasn’t prepared for, was for the doors to his chambers to fly open and his Godson to enter. “Uncle Severus, I-” Draco stopped short as he took in the sight in front of him. “Holy fuck, Severus”

“Draco-”

“Wow. Didn’t expect this from you, of all people. Bit of a dark horse, aren’t you? And you, Potter”. Draco’s smile increased in malicious glee at having caught his rival in a compromising position.

“Draco!” Severus snapped, patience evaporating. “Shut up. Listen carefully to me. You will stop whatever wrong conclusion you’ve come to. You will speak to no one of what you’ve seen. When this current…situation has resolved, I will seek you and we will discuss this.”

Draco’s grin widened, which Severus hadn’t thought would be possible. Little prat. “Of course, Severus.” He turned to stroll back out of the door.

As he reached the frame, Severus said very lowly “Draco?”

He turned, eyes dancing, “Yes Uncle?”

“I will make you incredibly sorry if you disobey my instructions. You, of all of the students of Hogwarts know what I am capable of. Do not test me.”

He witnessed, with some satisfaction, genuine fear in Draco’s eyes before he gulped, exited, and shut the door firmly.

Severus groaned. Things had just become even more complicated.


	6. A Revelation

Things became more complicated still when Severus donned his teaching robes, prepared to go to his first class, only to stop short. Harry sat patiently by the door. He was still wearing the flannel sleep pants that Severus had magicked onto him the previous evening, but his torso was bare, as were his feet. Behaving as oddly as he was, it wasn’t like Severus could allow him to pad after him like he’d done in fox form.

Severus placed his forehead against the cool wood of the door and pondered the situation. He was trapped. Finding no other option, Severus threw some floo powder into the flames and resignedly called “Albus Dumbledore”. When the long beard appeared, followed by Albus’ smiling visage, Severus said flatly, “We have a problem”. It didn’t take Albus long to realize that Severus would be unable to exit without leaving a hysterical Harry behind. 

“Very well,” Albus said. “You’ll spend the day working with Harry. It’s been a long time since I supervised a Potions class. What a pleasant turn this day has taken!” He smiled cheerfully at them both and and disappeared from the flames. Severus growled in frustration. Albus was a menace in a Potions Lab, he knew from previous experience. Still, it couldn’t be helped.

Harry’s stomach suddenly growled, and he turned appeasing eyes on Severus. “Come then, Potter. Let’s get you fed.”

At Severus’ insistence, Harry ate on a dining chair, even if he was crouching. Severus showed him how to hold a fork, and reoriented him when, fork forgotten, he delicately nipped a piece of bacon from the plate with his teeth. After Severus cut his food for him, and again placed the fork firmly in his right hand, Harry managed to take a few bites using the utensils. He cast a beaming smile at Severus, and, despite himself, Severus found himself smiling back. “Well done, Harry.” Things were going rather well until, stymied by a goblet of pumpkin juice, Harry found himself doused in the sticky liquid. Severus tried to calculate how long it had been since Harry had bathed, and, since he didn’t fancy his bed polluted by anyone’s stinking body, they found themselves in the bathroom.

Severus turned on the shower, and ensured the temperature wasn’t going to burn Harry. His brow wrinkled in consternation. How would he instruct Harry how to shower while protecting his modesty? Feeling immeasurably awkward, he gestured to Harry’s sleep trousers. “You should…remove your clothing.” A blush rose on his cheeks as Severus realized that Harry had no idea what he was saying. Desperate not to prolong the situation, he placed his hands on Harry’s slim hips and loosened the trousers. The slipped to the floor, leaving Harry standing naked in front of Severus, smiling beatifically. He nudged Harry into the shower, trying in vain not to notice the appealing dimples on either side of Harry’s backside. Despite the inappropriateness of the situation, Severus was a man, a gay man, and his appreciation of Harry’s body was instinctive, if inappropriate. As he stood under the warm water, a groan of pleasure escaped Harry’s parted lips. Severus tried in vain to think chaste thoughts. Harry simply stood under the stream, letting the water wash over him, unmoving. 

Severus fruitlessly begged his body to stop betraying him as he lathered a flannel and placed it into Harry’s hand. When Harry simply stared dumbly at it, Severus gently placed a hand over Harry’s and pressed it to his chest. “You need to wash yourself, Harry. Like this.” Severus kept his eyes on Harry’s face: any straying of his gaze would do nothing to improve the tightening of his trousers. Harry seemed to be getting the hang of washing himself, to Severus’ simultaneous relief and disappointment. When he was rinsed and wrapped in a fluffy towel, Severus summoned some clothing from his own wardrobe. As quickly and clinically as he could, Severus helped Harry dress, cursing his traitorous body for reacting to a student.

The situation wasn’t improved much when Harry nuzzled his head under Severus’ chin. “Harry, no.” The younger man’s eyes filled with confusion, and hurt. He understood the word ‘no’. Severus was filled with helplessness. How could he explain to Harry that there were different rules for his fox self than for his human self? With a sigh, Severus left the room. “Come.” Harry followed behind, wary and unsure.

It was painstaking, and there were more failures than victories that day, but by the time curfew rolled around, Harry was making progress. He’d spoken again, calling Severus “Sir”. When Severus effusively praised the attempt, Harry seemed to increase his efforts. “I’m Harry?” He asked, as Severus patted the covers around him.

“You are.”

“And you’re Sir?” 

“Yes, or Professor Snape, if you prefer”

“I feel…odd.”

“Yes, I know you do,” Severus replied soothingly. “Rest now. Perhaps you’ll feel better in the morning.”

Indeed, in the morning, Harry _was_ better. He sat at the table obediently enough, and was doing his best to communicate. His sentences were halted and disjointed, but Severus could see that he was trying hard. As they finished their tea, it was obvious that something was on Harry’s mind, but the words were coming slowly. His eyes were narrowed as he focused on translating the concepts into words. “My…” his face flushed. “My Weasley? No. My Herm…Ugh” His hand smacked the table in frustration.

“You wish to know if your friends are well?”

Harry fiercely nodded. “They came? When…I was hurting.”

“Yes, you did see Mister Weasley and Miss Granger while you were in the Hospital Wing. They’re quite well. Miss Granger has taken to sending me owls to inquire after your health. I’ve had three this morning alone”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Harry’s face. “I…like to…to.”

“Shall I invite them to visit you?”

At Harry’s grateful nod, Severus found himself wondering how it had come to this. How had Severus Snape, Death Eater, Spy for the Order of the Phoenix, Feared Head of Slytherin House, come to dance attendance on James Potter’s blasted son? But, as he watched Harry earnestly struggle with the lace of his trainer, he realized, he didn’t think of him that way anymore. Somehow, the simplicity of the mind of a small fox had managed to encroach all of Severus’ defences. So much so, that he was willing to entertain a horde of Gryffindors in his personal quarters.

The visit, irritating as it was, was very good for Harry. When Miss Granger had run in, tears in her eyes and wrapped her arms around Harry, he’d cast a desperate look in Severus’ direction, before taking a breath, and allowing himself to be embraced. She’d been full of helpful ideas, as well. She’d brought Harry’s photo album, which contained pictures of his parents, and friends, as well as his invisibility cloak. Harry stroked the silvery fabric lovingly. He looked at Ron, suddenly, his face worried. "Heddy?"

"She's fine, mate. She showed up at the Burrow a day or so after school started." Harry smiled at him, relieved.

“I thought that maybe you could go for a little fly?” Ron had been methodically working his way through the plate of sandwiches that the house elves had produced, but, as he chewed through them with startling efficiency, he looked closely at Harry. I can’t think of what else might make you feel more like a Wizard.”

Severus felt a thin shard of terror make its way down his spine, but he saw the reason of Weasley’s suggestion. “If you’re very careful,” he said, “I think it’s a reasonable suggestion.”

“Careful,” Harry echoed, his eyes on the fabric of the cloak. 

Severus turned to Weasley, his face cold. “I cannot express to you how important it is that Harry’s current condition be guarded from other students. His very life may depend upon it. I hold you personally responsible for guaranteeing it.”

“I understand, sir. Thank you.” Severus’ forehead knitted as he regarded the young man. He’d always thought Weasley weak, addle-minded, but his countenance had changed as he was charged with Harry’s safety. His shoulders were back, and his blue eyes were steely. “I will keep Harry safe. I always have.”

“You have,” Severus admitted. He found it curious that Weasley or Granger hadn’t inquired as to his seeming change of heart regarding Harry’s care. The Severus Snape of last term wouldn’t have been so guileless in his protectiveness. Something had changed between him and the Golden Trio. Nevertheless, it couldn’t be helped. Severus did care for Harry now, and squabbling over him wouldn’t be productive. “I trust you.”

“Yes, sir. Come on Harry.” Ron took Harry’s arm gently, helped him into his invisibility cloak, and led him from Severus’ quarters. As the door closed behind them, Severus fought an instinct to run after them. It was foolhardy to allow Harry to wander the corridors in his current mental state, but Severus had no doubt that flying on the Quidditch pitch was a good idea. It simply meant that Severus would wear the carpet away, pacing, until they returned. 

Harry seemed much improved, three hours later, when the three students returned. Their cheeks were all bright from the cool air, and Harry’s eyes were dancing. “Sir!” His voice was joyful. “I flew!”

“Did you find it helpful?” He asked.

“I did,” Harry said. “I am remembering.” Severus was relieved. It did no one any good for Harry to remain in Severus’ quarters, terrified and feral. Yet the notion of him leaving, heading to Gryffindor Tower with his friends, caused Severus to berate himself over ridiculous feelings of loneliness. 

“Good,” Severus replied. “I imagine you’ll be well enough to return to your friends, and your studies by week’s end. Mister Weasley, Miss Granger, you should return to your Dormitory. It wouldn’t do for you to be seen out after curfew.”

“Thank you, sir,” Granger said, her clever eyes regarding him closely. Severus nodded in response. “Goodnight, Harry.” She enfolded Harry in a warm hug, and his arms encircled her waist automatically.

“Good night,” Harry said absently, his attention on the snitch that Ron had left carelessly on the table. Its wings buzzed.

“‘Night Harry,” Ron said, fondly tapping him on the arm, and then they were gone, and Harry and Severus were alone again.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“I didn’t thank you," he said, still a little haltingly. "For what you’ve done. For me.”

“No thanks are necessary, Harry.” Severus knew that his words sounded formal, and it felt strange to continue using Harry’s first name, but he refused to go backwards. 

“No. I know that being my fox was a bad idea, but I was afraid. I think…Vernon might have killed me.”

“I know.”

“You do, don’t you? You know what it’s like?” Harry’s eyes were very green as he gazed through his lashes at Severus. He looked ethereal, fragile.

“I do.”

“Who hurt you?” The moment the words escaped his mouth, Harry’s eyes fell, his face shuttered, as though he feared he’d overstepped a line. For this reason, Severus confessed something that he’d never shared with anyone.

“My father.”

“You survived,” Harry’s voice was quiet.

“And so did you.” Severus reached out and placed his hand underneath Harry’s chin, raising his face so that he looked at Severus. “You’ll never return there, Harry. I won’t allow it.”

“That’s why I came to you. I knew that you’d keep me safe. You always have.”

Something passed, unspoken, between them. Severus, inadequate in matters of human interaction, was unable to identify it, but his instincts twanged, and he turned away. “It’s late. You should rest.”

“Um, yes. About that.” Harry’s voice was uncomfortable. “I’ve been sleeping in your bed. I’m sorry for…being trouble…”

“It’s nothing, Harry.”

“Well, I will… sleeping on the sofa tonight. I’ve incon…” his brow knitted as he tried to recall the word, but valiantly continued, “troubled you enough”. The look in his eyes told Severus that the conversation was over, so he summoned a blanket and pillow, and brought them to Harry. As he curled into his customary ball, Severus watched him from the doorway, ignoring an unbidden wish to see Harry sleeping in his bed.

Harry’s recovery continued apace over the next few days. His friends visited him each day, and gradually, Harry’s animal instincts lessened, and his human behaviour became more prevalent. On Friday, as he prepared to move into Gryffindor tower, Harry stood by the fire, his eyes watching the flames.

“It will be strange,” he said finally.

Severus didn’t need to ask him what he meant. They’d grown comfortable with one another over the previous days. Severus knew that he’d miss Harry’s quiet presence, but said nothing of his changed feelings. “You’ll do well returning to your dormitories.”

Harry nodded. “I’ll never be able to repay you for what you’ve done for me.” he said.

“There’s no need.”

“Will things go back to the way they were?” Harry asked, concern evident in his expression.

Severus pondered this. He knew what Harry was asking. Would Severus be cruel to him in public? Would Severus treat him as though he were nothing more than James’ son? “Things aren’t the same,” he said finally. “However there are enough children of Death Eaters in the castle that I will need to ensure that no suspicions are raised.”

Harry sighed. “I thought so.”

“But Harry…” Severus’ voice was urgent. “You must know that my treatment of you isn’t a reflection of how I feel about you. I will continue to watch over you, and I will always be here for you.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Harry’s lips. “Thank you, sir. I know that.”

“Now go. I’m sure your friends are missing you.”

Harry exited through the doorway, and Severus tried to ignore how empty his chambers now felt. He wondered if he should warn Harry to avoid Draco Malfoy, but decided not to, hoping that the years of intimidation he’d cultivated with the little monster would pay off.

Severus went through the motions. He brewed, instructed, took points from other Houses with a viciousness that had even Albus raising an eyebrow. It had been a week since Harry had moved back into Gryffindor Tower. He looked well enough, laughing with his friends in the Great Hall at meals, his head down studiously in Potions lessons. Severus summoned his marking and a generous glass of Firewhiskey. Settling by the fire, he opened his bottle of red ink and began making his way through a stack of first-year essays. He was beginning to make headway when a knock at his door startled him. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was after curfew. It had best not be one of his little snakes.

To his surprise, no one stood in front of the door when he opened it. Growling his fury at a suspected prank from Peeves, Severus turned to shut it, when a small voice said “It’s me.”

Severus stepped back to allow the owner of the voice to enter. He flung off the invisibility cloak to reveal Harry, looking miserable. “What’s wrong?” Severus asked.

“Nothing, really. I’m just…overwhelmed.”

“Come,” Severus returned to his spot by the fire, calling a house elf and ordering tea. Harry perched uncertainly on an armchair. “Tell me,” he invited.

“It’s really nothing. Everyone’s the same, but I’m…not. All of my housemates are so noisy, and nobody tells you that your sense of smell changes when you become an animagus. It’s constant sensory overload. I just needed a break.”

“And you came to me,” Severus tried to hide the delight in his voice. “Why?”

“I told you before, sir. I feel safe here.

“Very well. You are welcome here when you need a break. However, I must insist that you don’t violate curfew again. Will it ever sink into that mind of yours that you’re not safe here in the castle? You’re the last student who should be wandering around unattended.”

“With all due respect, sir, it’s not like Voldemort is waiting to snatch me from the Slytherin Corridor.”

“You mock, but Harry, we don’t know what the Dark Lord is planning. He could act through one of his students at any time.”

“I know. I promise, I’ll be careful”

“See that you do. Mister Malfoy already stumbled in here once and got entirely the wrong idea about you and I.”

Harry blushed. “He did?”

“Yes. It was shortly after we reversed your transformation. You were not yourself, and it appeared as though we were embracing.”

“Oh sir. That’s terrible.”

Severus felt an irrational stab of injury. “No matter, Mister Potter. I’m certain that your reputation will remain untarnished. I threatened him with certain death.”

Harry looked distressed. “Don’t be silly. I’m not worried about my stupid reputation. Malfoy’s dad is on the Board of Governors. Do you think that they could cause any problems? If allegations were made that you were…involved with a student, they could get you into trouble.” Harry’s face was crimson, but Severus’ pride was restored at his rationale.

“Don’t worry. Dumbledore understands the situation. He’ll smooth anything over with the Board, I’m certain. The more important thing is that we keep your animagus status a secret. That could be disastrous, if it were widely known. Tell me, have you been working with Minerva to practice your transformations?”

Harry nodded, taking a sip of his tea. “Yes sir. Professor McGonagall has been really helpful. I’m still kind of frightened to transform, though, without the potion nearby.”

“You? Frightened? I didn’t realize that you had sense enough to be cautious about anything.”

Harry grinned. “I don’t, mostly.” His face became serious though. “It’s just…there’s too much riding on me, isn’t there? If I get stuck as some dumb fox, who’s going to beat Voldemort then? I can’t be stupid, and risk everything…”

“Harry, can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” Harry looked at him then, so earnest and trusting, that Severus felt his heart wrench.

“I’m afraid that I violated your privacy when we picked up your things at the Dursley’s. In your journal, you mentioned the Headmaster honing you like a weapon. Is that truly how you see yourself?”

Conflicting emotions warred on Harry’s face before he settled, a serene expression crossing his features. “It’s all I can be, sir.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Do you know what a Horcrux is?”

Severus stilled. Of course he’d heard the term before, but it was disgusting magic. “I’m aware of the term, yes.”

“Did you know that Voldemort has them? A bunch of them?”

Severus felt his hand approach his face. “Merlin, no!”

“Yeah. I think that he intended to make six.”

“Harry, how do you know this?”

“I pay closer attention than you think, sir. When Dumbledore told me about the prophecy last year, I started researching how it was that he survived, and how he ended up coming back. There were some incredibly helpful books in the Black Library, and Dumbledore didn't discount my theory when I raised it with him. By the time I started thinking about the Diary, it clinched it. He’s been making Horcruxes, sir.”

“You said he intended to make six.”

“Yes. That what what he intended. But there are seven Horcruxes. Six, now that the Diary has been destroyed.”

“What are you saying, Harry?”

“When Voldemort killed my mother, he unknowingly splintered his soul a final time. And the soul fragment ended up latching on to the only living thing present.”

Severus fell horror, black and oily, creeping through his senses. “Harry…”

“Yes, sir. I’m a Horcrux. Dumbledore doesn’t know that I know, but I’ve come to terms with it. I’ll need to die, and it will need to happen at the right moment, or he’ll live on.” Harry gave Severus a funny little grin, one that didn’t quite hit his eyes. “So, as you can see, staying alive has become rather a priority, at the moment.”


	7. Sweet Sixteen and Never Been Kissed

Severus stared into the eyes that had captivated him from Lily Evan’s vibrant, laughing face, and thought he might weep. “But…”

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but it’s okay.”

“Harry, it isn’t okay. How can you be so calm?”

“Well, it sort of ties things up neatly, doesn’t it? My parents sacrificed, died too young, left me to fend for myself. At least this way I’ll see them again. And…and Siri”. For a moment his face displayed raw anguish.

“Does Albus know all of this?”

Harry scoffed. “Who knows? Dumbledore seems to enjoy doling out information in bite-sized pieces. I’m sure he suspects. He knows that I’ll have to die, but he’s never told me about my Horcrux.”

“Harry, it doesn’t have to be this way. You don’t have to-”

“Sir, I do. Don’t you see? If there’s a way to end him, end this for good, it would be selfish to let people keep suffering. It’s going to get worse, this year. I have to end it soon.”

Severus’ mind was racing. “But perhaps there’s another way. I’ll begin researching…”

“Thank you, sir, but you have enough on your plate. You’ve already done so much for me. I appreciate you being here for me. Do you mind, if I come visit sometimes? Just to have a bit of peace?”

“My door is always open, Harry.” Severus felt helpless, offering so little.

“I appreciate that, sir. I should get back before Ron and Hermione notice I’ve gone. Thank you, for the tea, and the talk.”

He was gone before Severus could reply. Severus sat by the dying fire, watching the embers for a long time grappling with the news that Harry had shared, and with the stoic, calm way that he had come to terms with being a human sacrifice.

Harry’s visits, after that first night, weren’t predictable, exactly. He’d show up without warning, a tentative knock at the door. He often spent an entire night sitting quietly, not saying anything, as Severus read, or graded papers. Harry’s green eyes would watch him quietly, or he’d doze by the fire. It was companionable.

Severus began to notice Harry’s emotional stability in classes. Sometimes, he’d appear wild-eyed, overwhelmed by the chaos around him. Draco tormented him mercilessly, lobbing ingredients into Harry’s potions when Severus’ back was turned. The spectacular explosions that resulted had Harry cringing into the corners. Severus would award him detention on those days…not to punish him, but rather to grant him some respite from the melee swirling around him.

One such night, the banging on Severus’s office door was frantic, and when he called “Enter,” the door flew open, and Harry collapsed inside. He was panting, and his enormous eyes were luminous and glassy. “What is it?” Severus asked.

Harry shook his head, as though speaking were beyond him at the moment. He placed two shaking palms on his thighs and bent his head down into his robes. From across the room, Severus could see him trembling. Decision made, Severus was at his side in an instant. “Come,” he said softly, taking one quivering arm and leading him to his quarters. When Harry was settled on the couch, and Severus had quietly summoned an elf to bring tea, he said “Harry. Breathe.” Harry _was_ breathing, shuddering gasps that tore from his throat painfully. His panic seemed to be rising, if anything. Severus placed gentle hands on either side of the thin face. Pain-filled eyes shot up to meet Severus’ own.

“Shush. You’re safe. Breathe more slowly. Long breaths.” Severus kept his voice quiet, as though he were taming a skittish horse. Harry’s eyes never left his as he struggled to control his gasping. His hands entwined themselves into the front of Severus’ robes and Harry buried his face into the fabric. Severus felt his arms surrounding the thin frame, without his bidding.

Eventually, the storm passed, and with a long sigh, Harry released Severus’ (now rather rumpled) robes and sat back. “Thank you,” he said. “And sorry.”

“Whatever is the matter, Harry?”

“I dunno” he sighed. “Sometimes it’s all a bit much.”

Severus nodded, watching Harry closely over his mug of tea. 

“Every time I think I’ve come to terms with it all, something stupid happens and I realize that this…death sentence…it’s just tough. Take today. Nothing really happened. We were in Defence lessons, and Neville said something, and Ron said something back, and we were all laughing. And I looked around, at these people who mean the world to me. I don’t mind, dying to save them. I’m happy to do it. I know it’s worth it, that they’re worth it. I’d do anything to keep them safe.”

Harry absently toyed with the cuff of his robes. He was looking at his hands intently, as though they held answers. “But I realized that one day, not too long from now, when this is all over, my friends will be together, and happy, and laughing. And I just feel so left out. I’m so happy for them, that their lives will go on, and they’ll have children, and live long lives in a safe world. Does that make me a bad person? I once read something about how charity was only truly a good deed if it was given with no strings attached, no expectations. And I’m happy, whatever they do. If Ron wants to live off the Potter fortune and spend his days eating Bertie Botts Beans…that’s okay. I just wish I could do that with him. I wish I could see it happen.”

The eyes that lifted to meet Severus’ were bright with unshed tears. “Ginny asked me to go to Madame Puddifoot’s today.” He smiled. “I let her down easy, told her that I see her as a sister. It’s true, for what it’s worth. I’m not even interested in women, so I guess one good thing in all of this is that I don’t have to bother coming out to my friends.”

A longer silence passed before Harry continued, “Sir, I know I’m being inordinately shallow by getting upset about this sort of thing. Voldemort is murdering entire families, and I’m whining to my Professor because I’ll never get kissed. It’s so embarrassing.”

“Harry” Severus made his voice as gentle as he could possibly manage. “You must never apologize for what you’re feeling. You’ve been cheated out of so much in your short life, and you’re entitled to experience the loss of the things that you will miss in the future.” He smiled wryly. “But, you’re right in your relief about not having to confess your sexual orientation to your peers. It was, if I recall…and I do, vividly, one of the more excruciating moments of my adolescence.”

“Sir, you’re…”

“Yes Harry, like yourself, I’m not interested in women.”

“Thank you for telling me that. It makes me feel a little less alone. You are aware, aren’t you sir? How much it means to me to be able to escape here and speak to you?”

Severus only smiled. Harry spent a few more minutes, idly playing with his cuffs before standing and straightening the wrinkles of his robes. “I need to be going. I have a potions paper due tomorrow, and the Professor isn’t tolerant of shoddy work.”

“That’s because the Professor knows just what you’re capable of, Harry. Goodnight.”

Harry gave him a dazzling smile before taking a breath, straightening his shoulders and leaving. As the door closed behind him, Severus warded them, and closed his floo. Then he placed his head in his hands and wept for a bright boy with snapping green eyes who wouldn’t live long enough to be kissed.

As the weather grew colder and the days shorter, the Castle seemed to go into hibernation. Weekends found many students cuddled under warm blankets, reading and playing exploding snap. Only the very hardy ventured outside at all, returning with bright pink cheeks and a vigour that seemed out of place amongst the dozy student body. Severus rather liked the period between November and Yule. Students seemed to be at their most pliant, and, outside of the odd Quidditch match that he needed to show his face at, he was free to spend his leisure researching.

The only student who seemed disconcerted by the weather was Harry. He hadn’t returned to Severus’ quarters since the night he’d collapsed in tears. Severus found himself looking up from his notes at the door, wishing for the quiet companionship of Harry’s pointed little face. He’d heard from Minerva that Harry had finally overcome his fear of transforming, and was now able to switch forms at will. One morning, as dawn was just breaking over the horizon, Severus found himself staring out a window from Albus’ office (he’d had a late night Revel with Voldemort, and had only returned to the castle some moments earlier via Albus' floo). He caught a flash of orange darting through the dusting of snow that had coated the grounds the night earlier. Harry was just at the edge of the Forbidden Forest. 

A fairy had ventured out from the copse of trees, and had alighted onto to the snow beside him. Harry cocked his head at the tiny creature, whose wings fluttered wildly as she struggled to keep from sinking into the snow. Severus watched, charmed, as Harry’s front two paws hit the snow on either side of the fairy in a playful bow, casting a cloud of snow in the air. The fairy, cheeky in her own right, cast a cloud of flakes in Harry’s direction before alighting into the air. Harry leapt after her, his sharp little teeth bared, but the fairy was always one step ahead of him. As he jumped and twisted in the air, doing his level best to catch the creature, she managed to evade him every time, until, finally, having lured him to exactly where she wanted him, she lighted onto a pine bough, causing an enormous drift of snow to cover Harry completely. As he dug himself out of the drift, and shook his fur, the fairy laughed so hard she fell off her branch. Harry delicately dug her out of the snow and gently placed her onto a nearby rock. The fairy gave a pretty little curtsey, to which Harry bowed in return. As the fairy lit off again, disappearing amongst the trees, Harry turned and returned to the castle. 

It had been a long night, and Severus was aching for his bed, but on impulse, he turned and intercepted Harry as he came through the enormous front doors. “Flash needed some air?” He asked, in low tones. 

Harry’s smile was luminous. “Good morning, sir. You’re up early”

“As are you.”

“Restless” Harry offered. “I’ve had a lot on my mind.”

Severus acknowledged this with a nod. “Harry, you know that if you need anything, you only need ask.”

Harry considered this, his gaze searching Severus’ face for long enough that Severus grew uncomfortable. “Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind.”

When a knock sounded at his door the following morning, Severus wasn’t terribly surprised to find that it was Harry. “Where’s your cloak?” he asked, as Harry ducked under his arm and into his sitting room.

“Forgot it,” Harry said shortly. He seemed ablaze with an internal energy, as though his recent restlessness had reached a crisis point. He threw himself onto the sofa, his knee bouncing in agitation for a moment, before he leapt again to his feet and stalked to the bookcase, scanning the titles.

When he abandoned his search for reading material, and moved to the fireplace to inspect the few personal items on the mantle, Severus said “Harry, what is it? You seem very unsettled this evening.”

Harry snorted out a sardonic little chuckle. “Yes sir, I’m quite unsettled. Dumbledore and I have been taking little field trips out of the castle.”

“Oh?”

“Horcrux hunting. He decided to tell me about the six that Voldemort intended to make. He didn’t mention that I’m one, of course, but he spun a lovely yarn about Voldemort’s plan, and benevolently offered that I could help him destroy them.”

“And have you?”

“Yes sir. We got the last one last night. Killed Voldemort’s snake. Now all that’s left is…”

“You.”

Harry nodded. His back remained away from Severus, but even from this distance, Severus could see the way that each muscle was taut. “Oh Harry,” he said softly. “I am so sorry that you have to suffer this.”

“Me too,” Harry said in a small voice. “It was a lot easier to deal with when the inevitable was further away. Now there’s nothing standing between me and the end. Sir? Do you think that the dead watch over the living? Do you think I'll be able to see what you're all doing?”

Severus sank into one of the armchairs that sat close to the fire, wondering fruitlessly what he could say to comfort this vibrant creature, so full of humour and joy. "Yes, Harry," he said quietly. "I think that you will."

“I imagine it will happen soon,” Harry said, a little detached. “Voldemort always makes a big move at the end of the school year. And Dumbledore’s likely to start worrying that he’ll check up on one of the Horcruxes. He’s already likely panicking about his snake.”

“How did you…?”

“Albus had set up another set of guards on a room in the Department of Mysteries, and made sure that Lucius Malfoy caught wind of it. Voldemort cottoned on to the fact that we were guarding something, so he sent her into the Ministry again on a fact-finding mission. Except this time, Dumbledore was there, with the sword, and he killed her.”

Harry returned to the sofa again, crossing his legs, and wrapping himself in the blanket that Severus always kept there. His earlier agitation had dissipated, and he just appeared tiny and fragile. Severus watched him surreptitiously. Even when still, Harry was an active person. As he sat there, he flexed his joined hands, and when that didn’t give him comfort, wrapped his arms around himself, pulling the blanket closer.

“I was wondering,” he said finally. “Do you think that the Horcrux could be destroyed if Dumbledore killed me with the sword?”

“Harry…”

“I know. It’s a lot to ask him. And someone would still need to go and kill Voldemort afterwards. It’s a selfish thing to ask, really.” Severus wondered if Harry realized that fat tears were rolling off his cheekbones, landing on the blanket. “It’s only…the thing that I’m most afraid of is how lonely it will be, when I have to face him. I’ve pictured it a lot. I imagine that he’ll have all of his Death Eaters there, laughing at me, and I don’t think that he’ll be the type to just cast the Killing Curse and end it quickly. Something tells me that he’s the sort of snake that likes to toy with his food.”

The statement was bleak, and Severus, having witnessed evidence of that very thing, had no words of comfort. It would likely occur just as Harry was imagining it.

“I just wish that I could see some kind eyes when I was dying. I think that would make it better.”

Harry regarded his lap for a few more moments before taking a huge breath. “Okay, that’s enough of that. Thank you for indulging my pity-party, sir”

Severus couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that escaped him. “Harry, if anyone is entitled to a little bit of dolour, this situation certainly warrants it.”

Harry smiled at him, something unreadable in his expressive eyes. “I just need to make this last bit really count. Pack as many happy memories as I possibly can into the time I have remaining.” His smile brightened for a moment “Can I have some fire-whiskey?”

“At 7:30 in the morning?”

Harry shrugged. “I’ve never tried it.”

Severus considered for a moment. Harry was sixteen, by no means of legal drinking age, and Albus would certainly not condone Severus providing him with liquor. On the other hand, it was a Sunday morning so Harry had no classes, and it was something that Severus could _do_. When faced with the overwhelming helplessness of Harry’s fate, he couldn’t resist. “Very well. You’ll forgive me if I don’t join you, though?”

Harry beamed at him. “This is going to be excellent,” he predicted. Severus summoned a glass and poured a generous three fingers from the bottle. Harry regarded it with delight. He raised his glass in Severus’ direction and said “Your good health, sir.” To Severus’ horror, he then proceeded to tip the entire contents of the glass into his grinning mouth. 

The ensuing coughing fit did little to diminish Harry’s enthusiasm. “Let’s have another!” he said brightly. 

Severus felt his lips curve into a smile in spite of himself. “I think not, considering that you were meant to sip that one.”

“Spoilsport,” Harry grumbled, without heat. They sat companionably enough for a while, until Harry, restless again, leapt to his feet. He reeled a moment and then gave Severus a lopsided grin “Oh. That was different.”

“Foolish child,” Severus said, standing and steadying him. “We should get some food into you before you go wandering the corridors. Albus will have my job if anyone sees you in this state.”

“Severus,” Harry said suddenly. Severus started, both from the unexpected use of his first name as well as the tone of Harry’s voice. Before he knew what was happening, Harry’s hand came up to cup his chin and he found himself being firmly kissed. Severus gasped, and Harry took this as an invitation to explore Severus’ mouth with his tongue. Severus responded without thinking, carding his fingers through Harry’s soft hair and returning the kiss.

A little whimper of pleasure from Harry restored Severus’ rational thought, however, and he broke the kiss and pushed away. Harry’s eyes were enormous, his pupils dilated and his expression dreamy, his lips wet and red. He was captivating.

And, he was a sixteen-year-old student. Severus firmed his expression. “Harry, what on earth were you thinking?”

Harry’s expression faltered a bit. “I just thought…” he ducked his head down, and Severus couldn’t hear the rest of what he said.

“Harry.” When the head remained downcast, he said “Look at me.”

Tortured green eyes finally came to meet his. “I wanted to be kissed before I died,” he whispered. “I wanted to imagine what it was like to be wanted.”

Before Severus could answer him, Harry pulled out of Severus’ arms and ran for the door, with a choked “I’m sorry,” trailing after him.

Muttering a curse word, Severus tore after Harry, who was already disappearing down the corridor. “Harry!” Severus shouted as he ran, but as Harry neared the end of the corridor, he transformed into his fox form, and disappeared from sight.

Severus raced after him, panicked. In their upset, neither man noticed Draco watching from the shadows.


	8. Severus' Confession

Harry’s fox form wasn’t named ‘Flash’ for no reason. He had disappeared quickly from Severus’ line of sight, and was now nowhere to be found in the Castle. Under the guise of patrolling the hallways looking for misbehaviour, Severus felt like he'd traipsed every square metre of corridors. He managed to gain a little satisfaction by growling at students and docking points, but his worry over Harry's whereabouts distracted him from its normal joy. As the day waned and dinner approached, Severus admitted defeat and made his way to Albus’ office.

Password given, the Gargoyle leapt out of the way, and Severus rode the stairs, feeling wretched. Albus smiled as Severus entered the room and sank into one of the chairs on the near side of his desk. “Ah, Severus. How are you?”

Severus was unsure how to answer the question, given the upsetting events of the day, so he merely said, “Harry has been coming to see me on occasion, Headmaster.”

“How nice. I’m pleased to see that the two of you have managed to mend fences.”

“Well, we had, sir. But some recent events have caused some upset.” Albus merely nodded at him to continue, so Severus plunged on. “Harry has shared with me that the Dark Lord has made a series of Horcruxes.”

Albus paled a little, and let out a deep sigh. “Ah, yes. Truly disgusting magic, Severus. I had asked Harry not to share this information with anyone, but it seems he's needed someone to confide in. Sometimes I forget that he’s still a child. He has suffered so, but has always shown such resilience. Has he found the work that he and I have been doing upsetting?”

“You could say that, Headmaster. Did you know that Harry is a Horcrux himself?”

Albus sighed again, and placed a wrinkled hand over his eyes. “I fear that he might be, Severus. I don’t know for sure, but there are strong indications. I assume that Harry has come to a similar conclusion?”

“He has. He has been attempting to come to terms with the fact that he is linked to the monster who killed his parents.”

“Oh dear. I don’t suppose that I’ve been helping him by trying to protect him from my suspicion. I sometimes also neglect to consider how clever he is. I wish that he hadn’t been suffering because I underestimated him.”

“Yes. It’s been difficult for him to realize that he must die to save so many others. He’s been grieving, Albus. He’s sixteen years old, and he’s realizing that there are many things in life that he won’t get to experience. Of course it would bother him.”

“But Severus, Harry won’t need to die. Whatever gave him that impression?”

“There doesn’t appear to be a great deal of information related to human Horcruxes. I believe that Harry just assumed that he’d need to be destroyed in order to end the Dark Lord’s life.”

“Oh dear. Now I feel doubly responsible for his upset. I should never have attempted to keep him in the dark. But, I had hoped that this would be something that I could address without Harry’s involvement. I wanted to protect him from the information while we destroyed all of Tom’s other Horcruxes, and then tell him when I was ready to perform the spell to remove it. The ritual needed a full moon, you see, and now that Nagini has died, I was simply waiting until next week, when the moon was full. This really is a mess. We are so close. I can’t bear to think that he’s been suffering.”

“Anyhow, it’s a little more complicated.”

“How so?”

“One of the things that Harry has been struggling with is the lack of experience he has had in…romantic matters. He was concerned that he would die without ever feeling loved.”

“Oh dear.”

“Yes, well, he kissed me this afternoon. Of course, I put a stop to it, and he took that as a rejection of him. He was quite emotional, and he ran out of the dungeons. I haven’t been able to find him since.”

“I wonder Severus,” Albus said, suddenly looking every inch his age as he regarded his hands, clasped on his desk. “When I reach my day of reckoning for all that I have done in my life, will I ever be able to answer for all of the pain that I have exposed that child to?”

“He’s no child, Headmaster.” Severus reminded him. Truly, he’d never seen Albus so uncertain.

“No” Albus agreed bitterly. “and hasn’t been for most of his life, to my shame.” To Severus’ horror, the crinkled blue eyes that looked up were full of tears. “I love Harry as if he were my own child. Yet I have allowed him to come to such incredible harm while he’s been under my care”

“Lily would be furious with you” Severus agreed. He knew that it was quite unkind to say this, while Albus was obviously already struggling with his guilt, but it had to be said. Severus managed to ignore the niggling sense of guilt that _he'd_ only recently had a change of heart about Harry. He was a hypocrite, certainly, but it was Albus' turn to recognize his wrongs.

“She would, at that. I’m rather afraid of the conversation I’ll have with James and Lily, when all of this is finished. I sometimes wonder whether I should simply have allowed Riddle to win, rather than expose Harry to such suffering.”

“Albus!” Severus was scandalized.

“I know. A world led by Tom Riddle would certainly result in Harry’s death, and the end to every value we hold dear. But tell me that you don’t sometimes wonder whether it’s acceptable to allow Harry to hold the fate of our world on his young shoulders?”

“Yes, Headmaster. I wonder that as well.”

“Well, let’s see if we can find our wayward fox, and see if we can’t put some of his concerns to rest. I don’t know what the future will hold for Harry, but I swear on my magic, Severus, I will do everything I can to ensure that he emerges with as little harm as I can manage.”

“You might start by telling him a bit more. Harry is incredibly resilient, but he reaches faulty conclusions when he’s kept ignorant. It isn’t fair to him, Albus.”

“You’re fond of the boy.” Albus’ voice had grown soft. Severus felt his cheeks colour.

“I have realized that I treated Harry unfairly.” He admitted stiffly.

“Severus.” 

Albus’ gentle voice was Severus’ undoing. His voice was defensive as he said, “What of it, Albus? He’s a student, and he’s incredibly vulnerable. I won’t take advantage of him.”

Albus’ wrinkled hand came to the side of his face. “My dear boy, you know that I am just as fond of you as I am of Harry. I would like nothing more than to see the two of you happy. As you have reminded me, he is nearly of age, and if something were to develop between the two of you, I’d be the first one to congratulate you both.”

“Well, be that as it may, if we don’t find him, I fear that you won’t have a chance to congratulate him about anything”

“Indeed.” Albus muttered an incantation, and the walls of his office glowed golden for a moment. Dumbledore cocked his head, as though listening, and then his face fell. “Harry isn’t within the wards” he said. “Where could he be?”

“The forest, most likely” Severus said.

“It’s already dark. Do you suppose he’s lost his way?”

“I don’t know” Severus said, the fear that had grown dormant while he was arguing with Albus gaining strength again, and beginning to gnaw at his gut. 

Albus cast him a sympathetic glance, and said “Fawkes? Would you mind having a chat with Ronan and see if they’ve seen him?”

Fawkes trilled obligingly, and disappeared in a blaze of flames. Severus found his hands clenching and unclenching as he and Albus waited. After what felt like an eternity, Fawkes reappeared, and Albus gazed at him intently for a moment.

“The Centaurs have indeed seen an errant fox in the Forest this evening. Let’s go bring him back, Severus.”

The moon was waxing, and so the forest was bathed in patches of gloomy moonlight as Albus and Severus hurried to where the Centaur herd had last spotted Harry. The meagre light emitted from his wand did little to aid the situation, and Severus found himself stumbling on roots at a near run. As they reached the clearing, Severus slowed, not wanting to startle Harry.

A cloud drifted, and the moonlight suddenly became brighter. Severus spotted Harry and stifled a cry of relief. As he crept closer, he saw something puzzling. A familiar form was entering the clearing from the other direction. Severus recognized a familiar hank of dark hair, and the barest glimpse of a slightly beakish nose. “Severus,” Albus warned quietly from behind him.

Severus’ brain gabbled in confusion, completely flummoxed at seeing himself approaching Harry from across the clearing. Did he have a time-turner? When his stomach gave a lurch, he suddenly realized with horror what was happening. Harry was edging closer to the other him, and Severus cried “Harry, run!”

It was too late. The other Severus firmly seized the little fox, and disapparated without a trace.


	9. Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter:  
> Torture, brief mention of hetero sex (non main character)
> 
> ************************************************************************

“Severus.” He heard Albus’ voice coming from far away, as though he were underwater. A hand appeared on his shoulder, and Severus looked up, unaware that he’d sunk to his knees onto the wet ground.

“He’s gone,” Severus whispered. “He doesn’t have his wand.”

“We’ll get him, Severus. Please stay calm.”

“But he’s defenceless, and it’s all my fault.” Severus thought he might weep. He savagely bit the inside of his cheek to keep the distraught howls at bay.

“Come. Let’s summon the Order.”

They returned to the Castle, where an elf brought tea, and spelled Severus’ clothing dry. Within a half hour, Albus’ office had welcomed Minerva, Kingsley and Tonks, Bill and Charlie Weasley and their parents, and Mad-Eye Moody.

“Thank you for coming,” Albus said. “As you may have heard, Harry was abducted from the Forbidden Forest about thirty minutes ago. He was taken while in his animagus form, by someone who was disguised as Severus.”

“How sure are we that it wasn’t Severus himself?” Mad-Eye asked, his magical eye rolling to glare at Severus.

“Rather sure, as I was standing with the real Severus at the time,” Albus said dryly. “I assume that the captor was using Polyjuice Potion. With Severus’ work as a spy, it wouldn’t be difficult for Voldemort to have obtained a hair from him.”

“Do we have any information about where he’s been taken?” Bill wanted to know.

“Nothing official, but the Dark Lord has been using Malfoy Manor as his base of operations for some time now. It is likely that Harry was brought directly there. The Dark Lord has become increasingly paranoid as of late, and holds Harry directly responsible for the lack of progress in his objectives. I have no doubt that he will torture Harry, but he will also not want to wait long to kill him.” Severus’ voice was bleak, and it hurt him to speak. “And we are wasting time sitting here”

“Yes, Severus, but we need a strategy.”

“A strategy won’t do us any good if Harry’s killed before we get there,” Kingsley said blandly. Molly flinched, her eyes filling with tears.

“Snape, can you apparate using the Dark Mark?” Moody asked.

“I believe so, but Lucius has also keyed me into the wards. Since I’m Draco’s Godfather, I’ve always had rooms available for my use, and access to the Manor,” he admitted. “It’s possible that I can apparate us into my quarters. The only person who could strip my access to the wards is Lucius, and he might not be home. Or, in the excitement, he may forget.”

“Severus, this plan might be very risky to your safety.” Albus said.

“Fuck my safety. Are we going?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Yes”

“Good. Drop the wards.”

“Severus…”

“Drop them. I’m leaving now. Anyone who wishes to come may come via side-along apparation.”

The entire room, stood as one. With a sigh, Albus muttered an incantation to temporarily remove the wards and allow them to apparate safely.

While the terror roiling in his belly didn’t lesson, Severus was glad to be doing something. He ensured that everyone had hold of him, and focused on his destination.

Before long, they were standing in a tastefully designed sitting room. “Where are we going?” Mad-Eye asked.

“I’m uncertain whether Harry will be in the dungeons or whether the Dark Lord has decided to bring Harry into the drawing room. It’s hard to say which Death Eaters he has summoned. The Dark Lord doesn’t usually call me during term time unless there’s something very important. I imagine that this would be the sort of thing he’d make a spectacle of. For that reason, I suspect that he’s planning to let Harry sit in the dungeons for some time to toy with him.”

“Well then, let’s go,” Tonks said.

“I believe it’s more prudent for me to check first. I will disillusion myself and confirm Harry’s location. I will return, or, if needed, send my Patronus to advise you where he is. Stay here.”

Severus cast the disillusionment charm and cast a quick look at Albus to ensure that he was hidden properly. Albus nodded and said, “Be careful, my boy.”

“Stay quiet,” he answered, and quietly opened the door to the hallway. Luck was with him, as it was deserted. Severus made his way to the dungeons as quickly and quietly as possible. He could hear what awaited him long before he saw it: Laughter. Gasps and faint little whimpers. Steeling himself for what lay ahead, Severus rounded the corner. Harry was in a cell, wrapped into a tight ball to protect his stomach and head. He’d transformed into his human form at some point, and his thin back was littered with whip marks and bruises. Severus felt his heart twang again, but he occluded, and breathed, and forced himself to remain still and look, and listen.

Harry’s torturers were efficient, cruel, and very obviously enjoying their task. Severus recognized them, to his dismay, as Rodolphus and Bellatrix Lestrange. Bellatrix’s madness was evident in her wild laughter, and she was methodically striping Harry’s back with thin incisions. Her glee overtook her at one point, and she did a terrible little dance step before leaning in close to Harry’s face and cooing “Little Potter. No one to save you, no one to know where you’ve gone. Betrayed by the traitor, Severus Snape. Our Lord will end him and you together. Foolish little Potter to believe that he could have a life, that he’d survive against our Lord.” Her howls of laughter had little impact on Harry. His face appeared utterly expressionless. 

“Move, Bella,” Rodolphus grunted, and punched Harry, hard, in the back of the head. Severus stifled a scream as he watched awareness leave Harry’s face when he lost consciousness. 

“Rodolphus!” Bellatrix shrieked. “You fool! You’ve knocked him under, you idiot! Rennervate!” Harry came to with a gasp, registering his torturers presence and setting his face into a resigned mask. “Cruci-”

“Watch it, Bella, Our Lord wants his mind steady for the morning. He won’t be pleased if you’ve robbed him of his final victory, in front of his followers.”

“Hmph,” Bellatrix pouted and flounced into a corner. She occupied herself with conjuring sharp little stones and flinging them at Harry, every time it appeared as though he were about to slip into unconsciousness again.

Rodolphus eyed him speculatively. “He’s awfully pretty,” he said.

“If you touch that filthy half-breed, you’ll never share my bed again,” Bellatrix snapped.

“You dare threaten me, witch?” Rodolphus stalked over to her and grabbed her hair, pulling her hair back to bite savagely at her throat. “You need to be taught some manners, little girl.”

With a bellow of rage, Bellatrix exploded into fists and claws and feet as she fought back against her husband. The scuffle grew more heated, and eventually, they were rutting against one another, mindless of their prisoner.

For a brief, mad moment, Severus considered simply darting in and grabbing Harry while the Lestranges were…occupied, but it was too great a gamble. Not, Severus sighed, that he had any idea other opportunities he’d have, but if he were caught now, he’d be dead, the other would-be rescuers would remain trapped in his bedroom, and nobody would save Harry. Severus had done many difficult things in the past fifteen years as a dual-agent, but he’d never felt more cowardly than at that moment, helplessly watching as Harry drifted back into unconsciousness. He did risk a simple mild healing spell, confident that he could cast it silently. It wouldn’t do much to lessen Harry’s agony, but it couldn't get much worse. Silently promising his return, Severus turned back the way he came and returned to his room, feeling wretched.

The would-be rescuers that were inhabiting his quarters were impatiently awaiting his return. “Well?” Molly asked, her voice frantic. “Is Harry here?”

“He is. He is being tortured by the Lestranges, and I overheard that they have been instructed to keep him alive until the morning, when all of the Death Eaters will be summoned to witness the Dark Lord as he ends Harry’s life.”

“Is he alright?” Bill asked quietly.

“He is…alive,” Severus said softly, and had to look away from the sympathy that he saw in Albus’ eyes. 

“Oh Harry,” Tonks sighed.

“Why would Voldemort-” Charlie started, and Severus winced at the sound of the Dark Lord’s title. “keep Harry alive any longer than necessary? Surely he realizes that the risk of a rescue party grows for every moment Harry is here”

Severus shrugged. “Arrogance, partly. The Dark Lord has allowed himself to believe his own narrative, and it’s unlikely that he’s thinking clearly. He has been growing increasingly unstable of late. In addition, some of his followers have begun to doubt him. This would be a significant way to demonstrate his power.”

“So what’s the plan, then?” Moody asked, taking a long swig from his flask.

“Now that my deceptions have been uncovered, Lestrange mentioned that the Dark Lord would be using this opportunity to kill myself and Harry. It’s likely that he’ll summon me along with the rest of his followers using the Dark Mark. When I’m called, it will be to a trap, and I will be punished and killed as well.” Severus gave a thin smile. “It is to be hoped that I will be able to get to Harry and give him the Portkey to get him back to Hogwarts.”

“And what will we do?”

“It is likely that, when I am summoned, Voldemort will want to address his assembly prior to punishing me and killing Harry. If he simply casts the killing curse the moment I arrive, he will lose an opportunity to demonstrate to the Death Eaters the cost of disobedience. For that reason, I expect that will will have a small window of time for you to gather in the Throne Room, under disillusionment spells, and prepare yourselves.”

Nods around the room suggested that the other members of the Order agreed with the plan.

“Then, we will need to create a distraction. Albus, you might wish to reveal an illusion of yourself, which will certainly catch the Dark Lord's attention. Whomever is closest to Harry should make sure that they get him the Portkey while the confusion is highest…” 

The team spoke long into the night. Nobody seemed particularly interested in sleeping, and the plan was vague, at best. While the other Order Members discussed, argued, gave opinions, Severus sat quietly. He knew, more than anyone, that this was a suicide mission. They would be outnumbered by a factor of at least a dozen to one. The Death Eaters were unhesitant in casting the Killing Curse, and with odds such as these, there could be no plan that would guarantee any of their safety. Much as he hated to admit it, they would simply have to go in, fight hard, and hope for the best.

As dawn approached, the conversation faded, and everyone seemed lost in their own thoughts. Albus’ voice was quiet as he said “I am grateful to all of you for joining me on this mission. I wish that circumstances were different, and that Harry were safe, in the Castle, but as he isn’t, I’m very proud to be fighting alongside you. In case there is any doubt whatsoever as to our mission, let me be very clear: Above all else, Harry must be rescued. This is not a mission to kill Voldemort.”

Mad-Eye gave a snort of disbelief. “If you think I’m going to squander an attempt to kill that bastard, you don’t know me well enough, Albus.”

“Alistair. Please. Because you have all trusted Severus and I by joining us on this mission, I will entrust you with a terrible secret. Voldemort has been splitting his soul, and depositing it into various objects to protect his mortality.”

“Horcruxes?” Moody seemed uncharacteristically shocked.

“Yes. As long as any of these objects remain, Voldemort cannot be killed. I have been working, along with Harry, to locate and destroy these objects. Currently, only one remains.”

“Well why don’t some of us go find that? We could destroy it, and then kill Voldemort while we’re here!” Tonks said, her hair glowing bright pink.

“We know where it is,” Severus said flatly. “Fifteen years ago, when the Dark Lord cast the Killing Curse in Godric’s Hollow, the spell rebounded, ripping a portion of his soul and depositing it into the only living creature present.”

“Harry…” Molly’s voice came out in a low moan, and she buried her head into Arthur’s chest.

“Yes,” Dumbledore confirmed softly. “Harry is Voldemort’s last Horcrux. There is a ritual that will remove the Horcrux from him, but it must be performed at the full moon. For that reason, we must not attempt to kill Voldemort today. It will gain us nothing. Do you understand?” Dumbledore looked around, meeting each person’s eyes until he was convinced that they agreed.

He gave them all a soft smile. “Now. I am prepared to lay down my life for the goal of rescuing Harry. Severus, you know where I keep my journal. Within that journal, lies the ritual that will remove the Horcrux from Harry. If I do not survive, you must continue where I left off.”

“Headmaster. I do not expect to survive this mission. I urge you to share the information with someone else.” Severus and Albus met gazes, and finally, Albus smiled. “Very well. If Severus or I do not survive, Fawkes will assist whomever can make it back. The password to my office is ‘Harry’.” He continued. “I cannot guarantee your safety tomorrow, as I’m sure you know. For that reason, some of us may wish to step aside. Arthur, Molly, you have children to think of. Perhaps they are better served if you return to the castle and choose not to enter the battle.”

“Harry is our son,” Molly said firmly. “I would lay down my life for any one of my children, and he’s no different. If it comes to it, our children will have each other.” Arthur nodded agreement.

Severus regarded the two eldest Weasley children. “You are both barely of age, and no one would fault you for stepping aside.”

Bill glanced at Charlie, then firmed his gaze toward Severus. “He’s a Weasley, sir. We’d be here if it were Ron…Harry is no different”.

“Dora?” This time it was Mad-Eye who spoke. “This goes far above and beyond your duties, girl.”

Tonks smiled, her expression a little feral. “He’s our best hope of ridding the world of what Voldemort stands for. If he’s taken, all is lost. Plus, he’s had a terrible go of things. He deserves a better life than this. He deserves a future.”

The rest of the assembled group seemed insulted to be asked whether they were willing to die to save Harry. There was nothing more to be said.

It was shortly after nine when the Dark Mark on Severus’ arm pulsed and burned as though touched by a hot poker. Severus stifled a gasp, and rose to his feet. “It’s time,” he said quietly. “Be careful. It is absolutely critical that no one knows of your presence.”

Albus laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Severus.”

“What is it?” Severus couldn’t look at him. 

“It will be alright.”

“If it’s not,” Severus said quietly, “tell him that I wasn’t rejecting him. Tell him that…” he broke off, feeling the telltale prickle of tears in the back of his throat.

“Tell him yourself,” Albus said, a hint of a chuckle in his voice.

“Good luck to us all,” Severus said, passing out Portkeys and sweeping out of the room. There was a crowd of Death Eaters making their way to the Throne Room when Severus slipped unnoticed into the hallway. He followed the crowd, his cloak and mask already on. Standing in the midst of the crowd, he strained to see whether Harry had yet been brought in. It was difficult to see, and Severus didn’t want to attract any attention, so he stilled.

As the Death Eaters finished assembling, kneeling silently in rows before the throne, Voldemort regarded them all. “My faithful army,” he said, his high thin voice filled with distain. “Assembled so prettily here. You make the Dark Lord proud. And to reward such loyalty, I have a little…treat for you all.” Voldemort stood, his gaze on the door. “Bring him!” He commanded.

Bellatrix and Rodolphus entered, dragging Harry between them. He was nude, covered in cuts and bruises, and one eye was completely swollen shut. The Lestranges threw him onto the ground and although Severus thought he heard a stifled whimper, Harry was mostly silent.

Gasps and shouts of glee filled the room, as the assembly realized that Harry Potter lay on the floor in front of them. Severus’ hand tensed on his wand. Voldemort’s thin lips curved into a parody of a grin. “Yes, my faithful, the great Boy who Lived lies broken before you.”

He stepped down from the pedestal where his throne sat, and casually circled Harry, his robes billowing behind him. “Would anyone like to see the great Harry Potter cry before I kill him like his filthy parents?” Cheers echoed through the room. “Sit up, boy,” Voldemort commanded. Harry ignored him. Voldemort grabbed him by the hair and pulled him into a sitting position. “Nasty, disobedient little creature, aren’t you? How disappointed your disgusting Mudblood Mother would be at your lack of manners.”

“Fuck you,” Harry said evenly. 

Voldemort eyed him speculatively. “Maybe” he agreed. “But later. Crucio!” The spell rippled through Harry’s body, causing him to twitch, and scream. It went on, and on, and Severus’ desperation grew. Soon, Harry’s mind would be destroyed. There’d be nobody left to save. Again, his hand tightened on his wand, but just then, Voldemort abruptly ended the spell, causing Harry to crumple to the ground.

“Oh, Harry Potter,” he mused. “I am going to very much enjoy killing you. But, alas, there is other business to attend to before the celebration.” He casually waved his wand, and thick ropes appeared out of thin air, tightly binding his prisoner.

“Now, my very faithful servants, I have upsetting news. One of your number has turned against us and has been spying, a member of the Order of the Phoenix, while spending time in your houses, bowing to your Lord, and making a mockery of what we stand for. Where are you, my little turncoat? Where, oh where is Severus Snape?”

Another gasp went through the room as the Death Eaters absorbed the fact that Snape, one of Voldemort’s inner circle, had been betraying them all. It was time. Severus leapt to his feet and raced to the front of the room. At the same time, he saw that there were numerous other movements in his peripheral vision. An enormous flash of fire appeared to his right, and Dumbledore appeared, resplendent and powerful looking. 

While the Dark Lord’s attention was diverted, Snape grabbed Harry and cast the spell to remove the ropes before he dragged him to his feet. Harry’s brilliant eyes opened and he looked at Severus. At first, his gaze narrowed, and he looked disgusted, before something changed in his features, and a look of peace settled on his face. He continued to gaze at Severus, the one eye that wasn’t swollen shut burning brightly. 

Now that the assembled Death Eaters were aware of what he was doing, spells began to arc through the room at him. He put up his strongest shield, seeing that the members of the Order were also casting shields on himself and Harry. Dumbledore was at his side before he knew it. “Go,” Albus whispered “Use the Portkey quickly before they raise the wards. I’ll take care of him.”

Severus wanted to argue, but knew that his chances to save Harry were dwindling. He lowered his shields in order to activate the Portkey, but just as he did, the coppery green light of the Killing Curse arced through the air towards them. As the portkey swept them from the room, the spell hit Harry, who transformed into fox form and went limp.

Severus landed in Albus’ office, panting, Harry lying lifeless in his arms. His eyes had fallen shut. “ _Rennervate_ ” he muttered, as he ran as fast as he could through the Castle. The journey to the Hospital Wing had never seemed so long. Severus’ breaths felt like knives in his lungs as he sprinted towards his destination. He couldn’t bear to look at Harry. He was certain that he was dead, but he wouldn’t look, couldn’t look. As he stumbled through the doorway, he screamed “Poppy!”

The Mediwitch cried in alarm as she took in the dishevelled man and his battered cargo. “What’s happened?”

“Please. Please! Killing curse,” Severus gasped.

Poppy took the little bundle from Severus, her face crumpling in despair. “Oh Severus,” she whispered.

“Please. Please, Poppy,” he begged.

She laid Harry’s still body on his usual bed, and examined him closely. Severus slumped to the ground. He’d failed. Somehow, the gods continued to laugh at him, and his own worthless body continued to draw air while Harry was gone, to say nothing of the brave Order members who entered the chamber of the Death Eaters to save him. Very quietly, and with little fanfare, Severus promised himself that he would remain to bury Harry’s body, and that of whichever of his comrades they were able to reclaim, and then he would drink a goblet of poison, and end this stupid, pointless life once and for all.

He was too distraught for tears. They too would come later, when he was able to finally face the multitude of sins and misdeeds that had made up the life of Severus Tobias Snape. His fingernails dug into his palms as he clenched his fists, willing himself to get through hearing the words that he’d hoped he would never have to hear.


	10. The Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, readers! Thanks for following this story thus far. I got a little feedback on the previous chapter that suggested that the scenario read a little implausibly. The comment was well-thought-out, and I appreciated the constructive tone.
> 
> I'll confess, I'd never posted a story that wasn't fully written before, and so writing this was a bit of an adventure. I posted the first chapter on a whim, and then promptly wrote myself into a corner. It took me ages to craft a storyline that went beyond 'Severus is charmed by a cute fox stuck as a fox'. In doing so, I had a few constraints on the plotline during the previous chapter. Then, the story took a right turn on me, and I wrote myself into another damned corner.  
> At the time, I considered just abandoning the whole damned thing, but I wanted to see how it ended....So...
> 
> I managed to get us back out of the stupid situation I wrote us into, and the story is finished, but I'll admin to not feeling...great about the slight...weirdness that the next few chapters take on. Hang in there, we'll get to our fluffy ending, I promise, but we may travel a little before we get there.
> 
> The commenter yesterday suggested that I rewrite the previous chapter, and I'm considering it, but I'm neck deep in the Harrymort story that won't behave itself, so if I do, it will be a while, and I don't want to leave this awful cliffie in the meantime. I'm going to post it as-written for now, and down the road, I may open up the hood and poke around.
> 
> As always, I appreciate that you come back and read this, and I do love your comments, positive or otherwise. Thanks for understanding!*****

***

“By Merlin!” Poppy’s voice was filled with wonder. Severus’ brain did a funny sort of stutter. Those weren’t the words he’d been expecting. Truly fearful of whatever had caused her exclamation, Severus raised his head. “Severus,” Poppy continued sharply. “He’s breathing”

In a daze, Severus found himself rising and joining her at the bedside. He rubbed disbelieving eyes and squinted at the little form. Sure enough, the tiny ribs were expanding and contracting, albeit slowly and shallowly. Poppy cast a few healing spells as well as some diagnostics. “He’s very weak,” she murmured. “But somehow he’s alive.”

“How?” Severus gasped.

“I have no earthly idea. This boy is a miracle, truly. Do you suppose he really can’t be killed?” Poppy wondered.

“I have no desire to find out,” Severus breathed fervently.

The door to the hospital wing flung open, and Kingsley and Tonks staggered in, holding one another up. Tonks had a gruesome slash down the middle of her face, which was teeming blood, and Kingsley’s left arm appeared to have been nearly severed. They collapsed to the floor. Poppy squawked in alarm, and she and Severus hastened to get them onto beds. Once she’d gotten Tonks onto hers, she raced to the Floo, and called St. Mungo’s, in search of assistance. The trio of Mediwizards that emerged presently, looked around in disbelief. “I thought that you said this was Hogwarts,” one of them said in annoyance. “What’s happened here?”

“Never mind!” Barked Poppy. “Get to work helping these two.”

Several tense minutes followed, as the medics all worked on their charges, Poppy concentrating on making sure that Harry was comfortable. Severus summoned a number of potions, and busied himself administering them. As the minutes ticked past, Severus cast nervous glances in the direction of the door. Nine people had embarked on this rescue mission. Would any more return?

It was nearly an hour later when the door flung open again, and all four Weasleys staggered in. Bill had been badly mauled by what looked like a werewolf. Arthur had a pronounced limp, and Molly looked weak, but otherwise unharmed. Charlie’s robes were bright with blood, but he also appeared to be in decent shape. “Where are the others?” Severus said sharply.

“Mad-Eye’s dead,” Bill said, with a sad shake of his head. “But Dumbledore and Minerva should be along soon. It got fairly exciting after you left, Professor.”

Severus spared a thought for the wizened, paranoid old Auror who died, as Severus imagined he would have liked: whilst eradicating the world of as many Dark Wizards as possible. It was a tremendous loss. Severus realized he would have to mourn Moody’s death later, however, because Albus and Minerva arrived just then. Albus looked exhausted, leaning his substantial height on the much smaller witch beside him. She looked as unruffled as always, despite the fact that she had some type of sooty burn down one cheek. She helped Albus to an available bed.

“Severus,” Albus rasped. “What of Harry?”

“By some miracle, he is alive,” Severus said. The assembled party gave a weak cheer at that. “He is exhausted, and very weak, and has not yet transformed out of his animagus form.”

“That’s likely to his benefit” Minerva said. “It’s much easier to heal while in animal form.”

“How did you escape the Dark Lord?” Severus asked.

Albus’s wrinkled face managed a small smile. “He’s dead,” he said softly and with a hint of amusement. “Tom Riddle was killed this evening by our own Arthur Weasley.” A louder cheer erupted at this news. 

“But Albus” Severus said, his mind reeling. “You said that he couldn’t be killed while Harry still had the…” Severus looked around, at Poppy and the two Mediwizards. “...situation.”

“Funny, that” Albus said. “As your Portkey activated, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse on Harry, and it hit him directly. You both disappeared, having been taken by the Portkey, and Voldemort suddenly fell to his knees. It seems that the Killing Curse he cast somehow weakened him dramatically. I have a good theory about why, but nevertheless…In the confusion, Arthur happened to cast a Stunning spell that hit Voldemort directly.”

Arthur coloured. “I missed,” he admitted. “I was aiming for Dolohov.”

“Well, it was a very happy accident, Arthur." Albus managed a weak smile and then continued speaking to Severus. "The Stunning spell seemed to be the last thing needed to weaken him completely. He fell to the ground, and that’s when I gave the signal to those who remained to Portkey out. It was simply by luck that Bellatrix Lestrange went to revive Voldemort, only to realize that he had died.”

“When she started screaming, Albus and I got out of there, called the Aurors, and joined you all here,” Minerva confirmed with a smug little smile.

Severus sank to his knees, weak with relief and shock. It was over. Voldemort was dead. Severus couldn't imagine a future where he wasn’t constantly on guard, terrified at all times that he would slip and reveal something that would make his true allegiances known.

“It is to be hoped that the remainder of the Death Eaters will be now in the hands of the Aurors. There will be much to do to clean up our world, but the battle waged tonight truly turned the tide of this War.”

Severus felt a moistness in his eyes, and a pinching in his throat. It was more than he’d ever dared to dream. Before he could spend any further time luxuriating in the notion that he was free, his eyes landed again on Harry’s tiny body. He bore the evidence of his recent mistreatment, with matted bloody patches dulling the vibrant orange fur. His eyes remained closed, and his breathing was so shallow that, for a moment of utter terror, Severus thought he might not be doing it at all. He found himself standing by the side of the bed, a hand hovering over Harry’s head.

“You can touch him,” Poppy said gently as she breezed by, potion vials clanking merrily in her robe pockets. “I daresay he’d find it soothing to smell someone he trusts.”

Severus regarded her departing form, eyes hooded. He wanted so desperately to comfort Harry, to lay his hands on his face, whisper words of affection in his ears. Thirty-odd years of rigid self-control battled this impulse, and Severus hovered awkwardly, unsure of what to do. He finally settled for conjuring a chair, and perching next to Harry’s bedside, hoping that Harry knew that he was safe.

One by one, the group of rescuers were freed from the Hospital wing. Minerva was released immediately with no more than a calming draught, having sustained no injuries whatsoever. Molly too, was unharmed, but remained with Arthur overnight as the bone in his leg was mended. Bill and Kingsley were transferred to St. Mungo’s, and Charlie and Tonks accompanied them. Albus received an owl the following day that reassured them all that Bill would be fine. He’d been scratched, but not bitten, and his form of Lycanthropy was extremely mild. He’d likely find himself with a bit of a temper around the full moon, but he’d certainly live a full life.

Kingsley had his arm repaired, and, with some training and rehabilitation spells, would be as good as new. Albus himself was simply magically exhausted, and after a few days of thoroughly annoying Poppy, she released him. Privately, Severus thought that she’d simply reached the limit of her patience, but his respect for the Mediwitch kept his tongue silent on the matter. Which left Harry, who, still in his fox form, lay still and silent in a warded section of the Hospital wing. 

Rufus Scrimgeour had arrived in the early morning after the battle at Malfoy Manor. Since Albus was still in the hospital wing, it had fallen to Severus to provide testimony of what occurred. The Aurors had been mightily surprised when the Phoenix patronus summoned them to the Malfoy residence, and they found the bloody aftermath of a savage battle. More surprising still was the diminished body of the most-feared Wizard since Grindewald. It had taken some time to answer all their questions, time that Severus resented heavily, because it had taken him away from Harry’s bedside. (Not that Harry noticed, still sleeping off his injuries.). 

Draco Malfoy had been summoned to Albus’ office, where, under Veritaserum, administered by a Ministry Official, he’d confessed to telling his Father of Harry’s animagus status, and of Severus’ betrayal. He’d been unceremoniously carted off by a trio of grim-faced Aurors to a holding cell at the Ministry. (Kingsley later confessed to Severus that they didn't know exactly what to do with Draco. He hadn't technically broken any laws by confessing, and he didn't carry the Dark Mark, but a betrayal of the Boy Who Lived was a public relations nightmare. They kept him locked up 'under Ministry protection' for the time being, but it would be a long and convoluted legal battle ahead, and the boy's reputation would be forever marred. Severus didn’t have it in him to pity the boy…he’d surely declared his allegiances, and was owed no mercy, as far as Severus was concerned.) Finally, Scrimgeour had left, ensuring that Severus knew that he’d be back if there were further questions. The Prophet the following day had been heavy on rhetoric, but light on details, simply proclaiming that the Aurors confirmed the demise of the Dark Lord, and capture of several Death Eaters.

School was still in session, and Albus, upon his return to the Headmaster's office, insisted that Severus resume his teaching duties. Severus did so with enormous reluctance, but, given the amount of upset within the Slytherin House (many of their parents, and one of their more popular classmates being either dead, or awaiting punishment), it was prudent to restore stability. The moment his last class was finished, however, Severus hurried back to the Hospital wing, where he would sit quietly with Harry, occasionally stroking his soft fur.

In truth, nobody really knew how to treat him. He didn’t seem badly injured, despite being magically exhausted. He remained in fox form, and hadn’t woken since the battle had ended. After four days, Severus was beside himself, which manifested in him curtly asking Poppy exactly what was being done for Harry, exactly. Her reaction was unexpectedly clipped. “I am keeping him comfortable, Severus. Frankly, I’m not exactly sure what I can do for him, and the experts at St. Mungo’s are just as baffled. Nobody’s survived a Killing Curse once, let alone twice, if that is what was cast on him at the Malfoy’s. We don’t know whether to force him to transform out of his animagus form, or to leave him as he is. We can’t figure out whether his mind is unharmed.” To Severus’ surprise, her eyes moistened suddenly, something that Severus had never seen, in all the years he’d known Poppy. “I’ve never felt so helpless, Severus”

Uncharacteristically, Severus was wordless, and simply clasped both of her hands in his. This caused the brimming tears to spill over, and Severus watched awkwardly as she pulled her hands away and buried her face into them. Woodenly patting her shoulder, Severus felt wretched. As quickly as it had begun, her storm of tears ended, and she wiped her face with a corner of the starched white apron she wore. “I’m sorry about that,” she apologized curtly. “I’m just frustrated by our lack of progress.” She took a deep breath and continued. “I think he’s just exhausted. I remain hopeful that his mental faculties are untouched. But all we can do right now is give him time, and rest.”

“May I take him back with me to my quarters? If there’s nothing additional you can do for him?”

Poppy considered this. For a moment, her brow wrinkled into a frown, and Severus thought that she was sure to refuse him. She opened her mouth to speak, but then, suddenly, her expression softened. “I don’t see why not, Severus. Perhaps the familiar setting would be comforting for him. Summon me when he awakens, and we’ll conduct some additional scans.”

Severus had known Poppy for well over half of his life. When he’d been an awkward adolescent, struggling to fit in within Slytherin house, she’d healed his injuries, and kindly avoided asking how he’d gotten them. Upon his return from summer vacation, skinny and bearing the brunt of his father’s drunken rages, she’d been tight-lipped, but mercifully clinical, without a hint of the sympathy that Severus would have loathed. Later, as a servant of the Dark Lord, any time he’d returned from a particularly violent encounter with his Master, she’d been immeasurably gentle, and comfortingly clinical. Other than Albus, she knew him better than anyone. With a flash of humiliation, Severus realized that she’d guessed the extent of his growing feelings for Harry. He flushed and looked away.

“Severus.” Her voice was firm, but not unkind. Miserably, he raised his eyes to look at hers. “It’s not a weakness, you know, caring for someone. I daresay this is the first time you’ve allowed yourself to feel anything since Harry’s mum, isn’t it?” She must have spotted something in his eyes then, because she continued. “I know, you don’t want to speak of it. But Severus, lad, you deserve so much more than your life has given you. Rather like Harry, come to think of it. You’ve paid your debt, Severus. The slate is clean. Don’t make the same mistake you made in the past, dear. Don’t turn away from love because of misguided guilt, or some desire to continue punishing yourself. I can’t think of anyone who deserves love more than you…unless it’s Harry himself. Off you go, now, Severus. Take good care of him.”

She turned and disappeared into her office, leaving Severus standing dumbly. For what felt like the millionth time that week, tears prickled his throat. Taking a deep breath, and mentally patting down his occlumency shields, Severus turned back towards the bed where Harry lay. He’d barely moved, the entire time that he’d been there. It was worrisome, and seeing Harry so still and silent, was torture for Severus. Straightening his shoulders, Severus gently picked him up, and set off towards the dungeons.

He’d made little progress when he heard footsteps behind him. “Professor Snape, sir?” Severus paused and turned to see dreamy-eyed Luna Lovegood hurrying down the hall towards him. 

“What is it, Miss Lovegood?”

“I wanted to see how Harry was faring.” She replied, matter-of-factly. “He still hasn’t awoken, I see.”

Severus tensed. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said, coldly. When Harry had regained his human form, back in September, they’d carefully made a point of having him appear as Flash in some of Severus’ classes, thus ensuring that everyone saw Harry and the fox both in the Castle during the same time period, and a clever transfiguration from Minerva had resulted in one harrowing class containing Harry _and_ a little fox, who, if slightly wilder, managed to serve its purpose. Eventually, they’d told the students that Flash had regained his health, and that he’d been released into the wild again. After the battle at Malfoy Manor, the students had been told that Harry was at St. Mungo’s recovering from his ordeal. Granted, Lovegood was a Ravenclaw, but Severus had hoped that they’d better protected Harry’s animagus status. Not, he supposed, that it made much of a difference now.

“May I?” Lovegood’s voice was gentle as she stretched her hand towards the bundle in his arms. Severus bristled, but, knowing how fond Harry was of the slight, fey girl, he nodded his head in assent. She placed a tender hand on Harry’s head and closed her eyes. Her forehead wrinkled for a moment, and then her shoulders visibly relaxed as she removed her hand. “He’s sleeping very deeply, but he’s unharmed.”

“How do you know?” Severus, exhausted and worried, was desperate for any words of hope, even if they came from the slightly odd girl standing before him.

She shrugged with a tiny smile. “He’s protecting himself. He’s been badly frightened, and terribly hurt.”

“I thought you just said that he was unharmed,” Severus snapped.

“Physically, yes, he’s quite well. Someone has hurt his soul, though. And someone has hurt his feelings.” From the look in her eyes, Severus concluded that she suspected who was responsible for the latter.

“He’s been through a terrible ordeal,” Severus said, trying to ignore the childish wail that threatened to rise from him at the thought of having hurt Harry’s feelings.

Lovegood nodded. Severus turned away, about to resume his journey to the dungeons. “Sir?” At the sound of her voice, he looked back. “He will forgive you, but you must be patient.”

He could barely manage to nod at her as he practically fled to the safety of his quarters.


	11. Getting Back to Normal

Harry’s long sleep lasted another month and a half. Severus was beside himself. One night, after too much fire-whiskey and worrying, he found himself recalling the tale of Sleeping Beauty. As he eyed the sleeping fox speculatively, better sense fortunately took over, and he put himself to bed with a groan. The next morning, hung over and miserable, he eyed Harry and muttered, “You’re sending me mad, Harry. I don’t know if you’re in there, if you can hear me, but I miss you. You can stay like this if you need to, but, Merlin, I wish you’d wake up.”

There was no immediate response, and so, casting a monitoring charm, Severus sadly left his quarters to teach his sixth year Gryffindor/Slytherin class. The students were greatly subdued, their two missing classmates’ absence still conspicuous. Halfway through a theory lesson on compulsion potions, Severus sighed and said “Class dismissed.” The students looked at one another, confused. No one moved. “Go on.” His voice was leaden. When they still remained, Severus’ fraying temper dissembled completely. “Go!” He roared, and the students scattered, grabbing their things and fleeing. Severus put his head down on his desk. 

“Severus?” The soft knock at his door caused every muscle in Severus’ body to tense. Albus was, truly, one of his closest friends, but his unceasing cheeriness set Severus' teeth on edge. 

“What is it?” He asked curtly.

“I had some visitors, not very long ago.” Severus didn’t reply. He didn’t care. “Both Miss Granger and Mister Weasley were quite concerned about you.” When Severus still didn’t respond, he continued, “Severus, you can’t go on like this.”

“No.” Severus responded. “I don’t suppose I can. I’ll have my things packed and leave the castle by morning.”

Albus chuckled. “If I planned to sack you because you shouted at students, you wouldn’t have lasted your first year. Of course I don’t want you to leave, Severus. I just don’t want to see you living this half-life. Voldemort is dead. You have your life ahead of you.”

Severus saw sense in what Albus was saying. Now that he had been freed of his servitude to the Dark Lord, and his role as a spy to Albus, he truly could do anything. Severus struggled to remember the goals he’d set as a student, long before he’d taken the Dark Mark. Suddenly, he was cast back to his fifth year, sitting with Lily under the tree by the Lake.

“I want to be an Unspeakable,” Lily’s voice said in his memory. “I want to study everything!”

“You’d do well,” Severus agreed. “You can’t resist meddling in things.”

She thumped his shoulder, laughing, and began to braid strands of grass together. “Just think, Sev, two years, and we’ll be able to do anything we like. What about you?”

“I want to be extraordinary,” he said quietly. 

“You already are,” she told him fondly. “And what will Severus Snape, graduate of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, do with his extraordinary talents?”

“I want to travel. I want to see the world.” With a rueful smile he continued, “I want to see more than Spinner’s End.”

“You shall, Sev. And when you come home from your travels, you’ll visit me, and come meet my children, and we’ll sit in my back garden while you tell me of all your adventures. Can’t you just see it, Sev?”

He could. Sitting in the weak November sunshine, a warming charm keeping out the Scottish breezes, he imagined Lily at forty. It seemed an impossible age. Her hair would be greying a little, and she’d have lines around her eyes from the way she squinted when she laughed. He’d be taller, not so skinny, and carry an air of mystery about him. He imagined her with a cluster of little red-haired children surrounding her. Surely one of them would have her expressive green eyes. He couldn’t imagine what her husband would be like, probably another Unspeakable, someone as clever as she. They’d spend their nights discussing esoteric branches of magic, and their home would be warm, and welcoming, and Severus would be greeted as a returning hero.

Looking back, he mourned their innocence. They had no concept that, a year later, they’d be enemies, that Lily would be dating Potter, that Severus would doom himself to enslavement at the feet of a madman. That another few years, and the vibrant girl with the laughing eyes would be dead by the hand of Severus’ captor.

Albus was speaking, Severus realized, and he extricated himself from his memories. “…perhaps a sabbatical?”

“I couldn’t,” Severus said stiffly. 

“Why not?”

“I have duties here, my Slytherins are so unsettled right now.”

Albus snorted. “Your Slytherins will be just fine, Severus. What would you like to do?”

“I-I don’t know,” Severus said slowly.

“Well, think about it, my boy. You have your whole life ahead of you now.”

Severus stammered a thank you, and posted a note on his door, cancelling the rest of his classes. He needed to think. He found himself in the Forbidden Forest, pointedly avoiding the clearing where Harry had been captured. As he walked, his path a little aimless, he considered the Headmaster’s words. He truly was free now. He could go anywhere, do anything he liked. A heady sense of possibility infused him. 

Suddenly, Snape’s mind’s eye saw himself on a distant mountaintop, learning about the ancients from a powerful Mage. He could learn anything he wanted to. He could devote himself to the acquisition of information, and develop new and powerful spells and potions. He could satisfy the burning curiosity that years of duty and responsibility hadn’t yet quenched.

Severus’ eyes burned with excitement as he let himself freely imagine the possibilities. It was as if the past fifteen years hadn’t happened, and he had the chance to start afresh, pick up where he’d left off, at the side of the lake, imagining his future with Lily.

At the thought of Lily, his soaring emotions hit the ground with a bump. Harry. In all of his imaginings, the little fox hadn’t entered his thoughts since the morning. Of course he couldn’t leave Harry, not while he was lying so still and weak in his quarters. Severus had promised to protect him, and if that meant putting his dreams back on the shelf, he’d cope with the disappointment as he always had. So resolved, he abruptly turned and set off towards the Castle. It was nearly time to spell a nutrition potion into the tiny fox anyhow.

The next few days saw a new, more settled, Severus Snape. He returned to his classes, and if there was no passion behind his vocation, nobody was the wiser. In truth, since the lines of strain and worry had eased from around his eyes, Severus’ students found themselves pleasantly surprised by how much nicer their Potions Professor was. Granger, who dutifully showed up at his doors each morning before breakfast to visit Harry, said as much. “Sir?” She offered tentatively.

“Yes Miss Granger?” Severus asked, barely looking up from the essays he was marking.

“I was just thinking that, although the situation with Harry is still very worrying, you must feel awfully relieved that…He…is gone.”

“Yes, of course. Our world is much safer now. It’s a relief to focus on preparing students to be productive members of society, not warriors.”

“Well, yes, of course,” she said, “but I meant you, personally, sir. I know that the Ministry and the Prophet have only revealed a fraction of what you’ve done for the war effort, but you sacrificed so much for us all. I just…wanted to thank you, sir”

Severus eyed her sharply, his innate suspicion of anyone’s motives, particularly when they were being kind, kicking in. But, the earnest face who looked up at him from the cushions by the fire, where she was gently stroking Harry’s back, was open, kind, grateful. Feeling entirely wrong-footed, Severus said, “It’s nothing, Miss Granger, anyone would have done the same in my position.”

To his surprise, Granger laughed. “I hardly think so, sir. I have an inkling of how much you’ve done, not just against Him, but also to help Harry. I appreciate it. In some ways, I feel like you’re the only adult who’s ever seen Harry as a person, instead of a weapon, or a symbol. He needed that.”

“He had a lot of expectations placed on him,” Severus agreed.

“Yes, and so did you, sir. I just…wanted you to know how much your efforts have meant to me…to all of us, really.”

Severus gave Granger a thin-lipped smile, and she returned to her one-sided discussion with a sleeping Harry. After some time, she stood, and spelled the wrinkles from her robes. “Thank you again for letting me visit Harry, sir.”

“You’re most welcome. Anything that might help.”

“Sir, do you think that giving him the restorative potion might help? Maybe if he were human, he’d be able to wake up again.”

“I’ve considered it,” he said, “but we just don’t know. And I’m fearful that, because of the lack of research, we might hurt him more. I won’t use Harry as a test subject.”

“No, of course not. Would…” she lingered at the doorway, her posture uncomfortable as she studied the floor. “Would you give me a pass to the restricted section, sir? I think you know that I’m trustworthy, and I just can’t sit around doing nothing. Even if my research comes to nothing, it makes me feel less helpless.”

He considered this. In truth, Albus had removed most of the books that could truly cause harm from the Library completely. It would hurt nothing, and possibly help, if Granger were allowed unfettered access to knowledge. Striding quickly to his desk, he completed the pass and handed it to the girl, whose eyes were hard with determination. “Thank you sir.” With a flurry of robes, she was gone, leaving Severus and the slumbering fox. 

He set off to his first class, after casting the now-routine monitoring charms on Harry, and was midway through a lecture on asphodel when, to his astonishment, the monitoring charms chimed. Severus broke off mid-sentence and dropped his notes. “C-class dismissed” he whispered, before he sprinted out of the classroom and towards his quarters, composure be damned.

Harry had not truly awoken yet, but the tiny movements and stretches suggested that the quality of his sleep had changed. Something was happening, and after weeks of inertia, Severus felt a tingle of anticipation ripple down his spine. He sent his Patronus off in search of Dumbledore, and, after a moment’s hesitation, sent another one to find Granger. No doubt, she and Weasley would come crashing in along with Albus, but they deserved this, especially Granger.

The little fox gave a luxurious stretch and curled into a new sleeping position. This was unquestionably different. His focused fox-watching was interrupted by a gentle knock at the door. He waved a careless hand, and the wards that protected him dropped, allowing the door to swing open and reveal Dumbledore. “Severus?” Albus entered the room with a broad smile. “Harry is awakening?”

“I think so, Headmaster. He seems to be slowly regaining consciousness.” 

Albus watched Harry fondly for a moment, then moved to the Floo, to call Poppy, who bustled through the flames a few moments later, the pockets of her robes jingling with potions vials. She cast a few diagnostic scans and smiled at them. “Severus, I think you’re right. I think that Harry might be waking up!”

A bang on the door made them all jump, and Severus waved it open. Granger and Weasley were both panting, having run from their study period. “What is it?” Weasley demanded. “Is Harry better?”

“It seems so,” Albus said, casting a beaming smile upon two of his beloved students. 

For some time, not much happened. Harry rolled over at one point, and smacked his jaws at another, clearly having a vulpine dream. As a sense of anti-climax permeated the room, Severus was about to bid them all leave. Just when his mouth opened, however, Harry moved again, and his eyes blinked open sleepily.

“H-Harry?” Severus breathed, barely able to believe that this was happening.

The eyes widened, and met his. Harry sniffed wildly, alarmed by his audience, and disoriented. Recognition seemed to dawn suddenly, and Harry’s entire body tensed. His eyes narrowed, and he intently met Severus’ gaze, before his lips drew back into a snarl. The little body scrambled to his feet, and his back arched slightly. Severus took a step back, a wave of hurt crashing over him.

“He doesn’t know!” Hermione said suddenly. She’d been told the entire story. The Polyjuice, the battle at Malfoy Manor, the Horcruxes. “He doesn’t know that it wasn’t you who captured him, Professor. He’s confused.”

At the sound of Granger’s voice, Harry unlocked his gaze from Severus’ and his eyes darted around the room. The confusion seemed to overwhelm him, and, quick as a wink, he leapt off the cushions he’d been slumbering atop, and disappeared into a corner, where he crouched, growling steadily.

“Oh dear,” Albus said sadly, and Severus was unable to look at him, unable to see the pity in his eyes. 

“I’ll…I’ll go,” Severus said dumbly, his misery and despair making his movements wooden. He strode from the room, and into the comforting familiarity of his lab, where he dove deep into a complicated brew that would prevent him from thinking. Some hours later, when he emerged, still broken, but detached, a sizeable portion of his mind still deep within a cauldron, the room was empty. Obviously, they had taken Harry, who associated Severus with betrayal, and pain, and humiliation. The thought made his heart pang sharply, but, as his stomach swooped and lurched, he saw the rightness of it.

This was his punishment. Harry had been saved, but he now loathed Severus. It was what he deserved, for his long-ago betrayal, and for years of mistreatment of Lily’s son. The comfort and ease that he and Harry had found with one another would never again make itself known. The budding feelings of…attraction, or whatever misguided emotion Harry had been feeling when he’d kissed Severus…those were gone as well. Harry would, whether he remained in his fox form or not, fear and mistrust Severus for the rest of his life.

With leaden steps, Severus slowly made his way to Albus’ office. Albus must have been expecting him, because the Gargoyle at the foot of the stairs leapt smartly away without Severus giving the password. He rode the steps silently, his thoughts bleak.

Albus looked up from parchment and quill with a big smile. “Hello, Severus.”

“Headmaster.”

“Harry has returned to Gryffindor tower with Mister Weasley and Miss Granger. He seems most comfortable with Miss Granger, and has become much calmer since his earlier reaction.”

“That’s good,” Severus replied. “I am sure that he will be well cared for.”

“Yes, of course. Miss Granger is most conscientious. You are certainly welcome to visit Harry in the Common room, Severus. I’m sure that Harry will be glad to see you, now that his disorientation has lessened.”

“I…No, Headmaster.” Severus didn’t say that he wouldn’t be able to bear another similar reaction. He tried not to remember the hate-filled gaze and the bared teeth. He'd made some form of peace with the way things had turned out, this was better.

As it turned out, Albus’ didn’t need him to say anything. He smiled sadly at Severus. “I’m sure he’ll come around, Severus”

“I do not share your optimism, Headmaster. He’s been deeply traumatized, and views me as the architect of his demise. It is understandable. Harry needs to be with those he views trustworthy in order to heal.”

“Come now, Severus, you’re being maudlin. As you point out, Harry has had a traumatic experience, but he will certainly see how things really are soon. You need to be patient.”

“Albus, in all the years you’ve known me, have you ever known me to be impatient? That’s not what this is, and you know it.”

Albus sighed. “Indeed. Your tendency towards self-recrimination will force you to avoid Harry until there’s no hope of your reconciliation. Please, Severus, see reason.”

“I don’t wish to discuss it.”

Another sigh. “Very well, my boy. I won’t press the issue.”

Severus stood, said goodbye, and returned to his quarters. A glass of fire whiskey by the hearth later, he’d reached a decision. It took a surprisingly short time to gather his possessions together. His quarters looked little different than they had a few hours earlier, if bereft of a scant few photographs and books. Severus shrank his trunk, and gathered a parchment, quill and ink to pen a few letters.


	12. Topya

The world outside of Hogwarts was enormous, and Severus barely knew where to start. Using his conversation with Lily, many years earlier, as a compass-point, he decided that Asia would be his first point of call. A few days spent in a room above the Leaky Cauldron allowed Severus to research, and within the week, he found himself on the island of Luzon in the Philippines. The heat was oppressive, and he soon found himself transfiguring his heavy woollen robes into lighter, Muggle-style garments. He wasn’t sure where to begin, but was surprised that the Muggle populations in Tabuk City were welcoming and eager to ensure that he settled in.

After the several hops of apparation he’d made from the International Portkey Station in Manila, Severus was exhausted, and when he’d settled into a seat at the first roadside stand he found, he was grateful that the owner expected little by way of conversation. She determined that he was English, and that he didn’t have a place to stay, and then, after bringing him a steaming bowl of rice, vegetables and pork bathed in a tangy sauce, she disappeared behind the counter. Severus ate and drank slowly, watching the group of children who watched him avidly from behind a tree. As he caught the eye of one of the littlest ones, her face was bathed in an enormous, crooked grin, and she curled her hand into a little wave. Severus found himself smiling at the child, and, just as it looked as though she were about to approach, the owner of the stand returned, with a sturdy looking man about his age. 

“Severus” she said, his name sounding exotic on her accented tongue. “This is my nephew, Jun.” Severus nodded a greeting to the man, and received a beaming smile and nod back. “You will stay with him tonight. They have a room in their cottage.”

Severus replied “I couldn’t possibly impose. I’m certain there’s a hotel or hostel somewhere that I could-”

She tutted at him, her smile taking all the heat out of the impatient noise. “Of course not. Jun, take him.”

And so, Severus found himself wandering into the night with the quiet man who seemed to be taking this in stride. The arrived at a small dwelling, humble, but meticulously cared-for. “Welcome Severus,” Jun said, gesturing him inside. The house contained a smiling woman, who Jun introduced as his wife, Avi, and two small children who, wreathed in smiles, examined him closely. Severus, who’d never experienced such an effortless welcome in his life, was nonplussed.

“I don’t mean to impose,” he started.

“It’s okay, Kuya, you are welcomed.” Avi didn’t seem especially surprised to find a strange white man in her living room.

“Kuya?” Severus asked.

“Yes, it’s a sign of respect. Please, be at home here,” Avi said. “Did you eat?”

After ensuring that Severus had been appropriately welcomed and fed, and establishing that the time difference had interfered with his internal clock, Severus was shown to a modest bedroom, where he was encouraged to rest, make himself comfortable, and call if he needed anything.

As Severus lay under a thin, woven blanket, listening to the insects chirping outside, he wondered how he’d ended up here, halfway across the world from Hogwarts, already feeling more welcomed than he had ever felt in his home. His thoughts drifted to Harry, but he pushed them aside, and fell blissfully into sleep.

The next morning, it was to rooster call that he awoke. It was already stiflingly hot, and the mere act of dressing had Severus bathed in perspiration. He cast a cooling charm on himself, and ventured from the room he’d spent the night in. Avi was bustling about the kitchen, looking every inch a darker-skinned version of Molly Weasley. She grinned at Severus and said “Morning, Kuya. Would you take some coffee?”

Severus nodded in thanks and sat at the tiny table in the kitchen. Soon, he was enjoying a steaming cup of the best coffee he’d ever tasted, and watching the children tussle on the floor. Avi hissed at them impatiently as they got underfoot, and they scampered outside to play. Outside, Severus could hear a man calling “Taho! Taho!” and he wondered who Taho was, and idly wished that he’d hurry and answer the man. 

As Avi placed warm buns on the table that she called ‘pandesal’, Jun arrived, and sat at the table and fell onto the buns in delight. “So, Severus,” he said. “What brings you to Tabuk?”

“I was hoping to visit the Bontoc tribe that I believe live on a river near here” he said. He couldn’t tell them that he was hoping to learn their magic, so he crafted a story of being an Anthropology Professor who specialized in indigenous farming methods. His meticulous research served him well, and Jun accepted the story with good grace.

“I can take you to the Bontoc village, Severus, but they don’t often welcome outsiders. They’re private people, who protect the old ways. You might have a hard time there.”

“I understand” Severus replied. “Even if I have a chance to observe from a distance, I will be satisfied.” Severus had no intentions of doing so, but Jun seemed to have adopted a brotherly protectiveness over him. The answer seemed to satisfy Jun and Avi, however, and, after breakfast, he found himself being soundly hugged goodbye by Avi, who, for a tiny woman, had truly astounding strength. Jun had gone to borrow a car from one of his cousins and so it was to Avi that Severus said, “I’d like to pay you for my stay last night”

She hissed at him, similar to how she’d lovingly scolded her children. “No, Kuya, we enjoyed having you”

“Nevertheless,” Severus said. “I didn’t bring anything to the children. Perhaps you would be so kind as to buy them some books, if I gave you some money?”

This idea appeased her somewhat, and she accepted the bundle of pesos he extended with a warm smile. “Thank you, Kuya, the children will be happy.”

The sound of a horn came from outside, and Avi said “That will be Jun. Travel safely, Kuya.”

“Thank you, Avi. I hope we will see one another again”

The ride to the Bontoc village was terrifying. Jun drove like a man possessed, and frequently, they’d turn a corner to find a Buffalo cart in their path. Jun would slam on the brakes, and then beep his horn, and dart around the cart, often in the path of an oncoming vehicle. Severus, who’d rarely travelled by car in the first place, kept a white-knuckled hand on the doorframe, causing Jun to laugh uproariously. Mercifully, the drive was over when the road they were travelling on dwindled down to a path in the grass. “This is as far as I can take you by car, Severus. Would you like me to introduce you to the Bontoc?”

“Thank you, but no,” Severus replied. “I can walk from here. Jun, thank you for the welcome, and the accommodations.”

“Of course, Severus. Please come to see us again, my friend.” With an easygoing wave, Jun reversed the car until the road was wide enough to turn around, and before long, he was gone in a cloud of dust, and Severus was alone.

Severus walked for nearly three-quarters of an hour before he saw the first sign of life. A skinny, filthy dog emerged from the tall grass and began barking ferociously. Severus fingered his wand, but, as the dog seemed content to bark at him, and presented no further signs of aggression, he simply waited. It wouldn’t do to antagonize the Bontoc people by killing their pet. A small boy emerged from the same direction as the dog, gasped, then turned and sped off the way he’d come. Severus continued to wait patiently.

Before long, a wizened old woman emerged from the grasses, supported heavily by a younger man at her side. She was positively tiny, wearing a brightly striped fabric around her, tied with a belt. Something white glinted in her hair, and Severus recognized it as a snake skeleton. Instinctively, he knew that this woman was magical.

He cast a quick translation spell, so that he would understand what his welcoming party said.

“You have come” she said finally. “I thought that my vision was wrong, that I would die before you made it to me.”

“You saw that I would come to you?”

“Yes, the Anito send me visions, and when the sickness began to overtake our people, they told me that you would come to us. They said that you would save us. They told me that, in return, I would share with you our magic.”

“Then it’s good that I’ve arrived,” Severus said calmly, but inwardly, he was groaning. He’d had enough of prophetic visions to last a lifetime, and the pressure of saving people wasn’t what he’d envisioned when he set out on his great adventure.

The little woman grasped his hand and closed her eyes. “You are bent, but not broken. You are strong beyond your own imaginings. But you have left a part of yourself behind.”

Severus shrugged. “Let’s go see about the sickness that’s harming your people.”

Her eyes were like bright buttons, and she looked at him sharply, then broke into a toothless smile. It seemed to make her face fold in on itself, and her eyes practically disappeared within the nest of wrinkles. “I like you” she said. “You have spirit, and courage.”

They walked slowly to an encampment of huts, each topped by grasses. The roof of each hut was steep, and extended nearly to the ground. Severus felt a version of a Muggle-repelling charm as he walked closer. The old woman gestured him into the largest one, and Severus knelt with her on a woven mat. “I am Severus,” he said, after she looked at him in delight for such a long time that he became uncomfortable.

“You may call me Ikit” she said. “It is good that you have come. I have been waiting to die for a long time.”

Severus must have appeared startled, because Ikit laughed. “Not today, child. You will heal my people, and teach them to make medicine, and I will teach you some of my old ways before that happens.”

Severus was shown a hut where he could sleep, and was greeted by each member of the village in turn that evening at a feast, where food and stories were shared, and music played late into the night. It was so different from the life he’d been living a week ago, he barely thought of home.

But that night, after the festivities had ended, and he lay on the ground on his woven mat, listening to the insects, he thought of Harry until the sky was growing light.

The matter of the mysterious illnesses was easily solved. The Bontoc people were suffering from Dengue Fever, he realized. He found Ikit, who was carefully placing a plate of rice and cooked chicken in a place where she felt the gods might see it. “It’s a very simple remedy,” he reassured her. I can show your healers how to do it this morning.”

“Very good, child. I knew that you would help us.”

The rest of the villagers were ecstatic to see an end to the illness that had been plaguing them. While Severus had initially been viewed with distant politeness, he now was fully embraced as someone who belonged. Severus barely had a moment’s peace for several days as he was embraced and thanked, and followed about. After a week of such treatment, he was feeling completely overwhelmed.

He was reading (hiding) in his hut one afternoon when a shadow fell across the entrance and Ikit appeared. “I thought you would be hiding here.” Her voice was warm. “My family is very grateful to you.”

“Everyone is so kind,” Severus admitted “but I’m a very quiet man, who is unaccustomed to being the centre of attention. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate being so welcomed. After all, I sought your village out!”

“I know,” Ikit soothed. “I know just the thing”

He was taken to a more remote hut, in a cluster of just three structures. He unpacked his possessions, was polite to his host, who was introduced as simply ‘Boy’ although the man must have been at least a decade older than Severus. Boy was a farmer, Severus intuited, looking around at the penned animals and surveying the wide fields of rice surrounding them. He was a man of very few words, but was gentle, and, as is the way of those who are very quiet, peaceable and comfortable to sit in silence. It was just the two of them, although a young girl with a flashing smile brought them provisions and hot meals from the village twice a day.

For a few days, Severus was content to poke about, gathering useful potions ingredients, watching Boy as he completed his daily tasks. When boredom set in, he joined Boy as he mended a fence. After nearly an hour of work, Boy said, “The goats. They like to get out and trample the plants”

Severus nodded, and held a fence board in place for Boy to lash to the structure with a length of dried vine. “You have shadows in your eyes,” Boy said, as though he were continuing an earlier conversation.

“You sound like Ikit,” Severus said, when it appears that Boy was awaiting an answer.

Boy chuckled. “That doesn’t make it less true.”

“Perhaps.”

“Your life has not been kind to you?”

Severus shrugged. “I have not been kind in return.”

“Ah” Boy seemed to understand. “You’re suffering because you carry guilt.”

Another ungraceful shrug. “I didn’t say that I was suffering.”

“Your eyes did. Do you think you’ll find it?”

“Find what?”

“Whatever you’re searching for that you think you can’t find at home.”

“I don’t know what I’m searching for.”

“Oh, I understand, you’re not running _to_ something. You’re running away from something.”

Severus didn’t reply. Boy wouldn’t understand the ocean of regret that he carried around. He wouldn’t see that Severus drowned in this ocean each day, and that he’d never manage to keep his head long enough to find peace, if he stayed, surrounded by the symbols of his misdeeds.

“It will find you,” Boy said simply, turning back to the fence.

The days passed idyllically. Ikit came most days, when she was feeling well, and when she wasn’t, Severus went to her. She told him the old legends, tried to teach him the old songs, and laughed at his furious refusal to sing them. The Bontoc didn’t use wands, Severus was surprised to learn. Their magic was purely elemental, and represented nothing so much as accidental magic. 

Severus became frustrated at his inability to master the simple spells of the Bontoc. His spell to produce rain failed to produce even the slightest mist. Ikit laughed at his fury, as he muttered under his breath. “You’re too much in your mind, Severus. You feel this magic in the wrong place.”

“I don’t know any other way,” he said, his voice sounding petulant even to him.

“That’s why you’re here,” she soothed. “You’ll learn the magic in your heart, and then you’ll be healed.”

Severus shot an annoyed glare her way. Honestly, some days it felt as though he were drinking tea with Trelawney. “I don’t have any use for this unscientific mysticism,” he scoffed.

“You don’t see any use, child. That doesn’t mean you don’t _have_ a use.”

He blew an annoyed breath out of his nose and tried to summon the rain again. His efforts were interrupted by Ikit’s sudden inhalation of breath. She was looking off into the distance at something winging its way toward them. As the enormous tawny owl came into sight, she clapped her hands in delight. 

The owl seemed a little worse for wear, unused to the tropical temperatures. Severus hadn’t realize that owls could be used for international post, but, if this bird were any indication, they likely shouldn’t have been. He conjured a bowl and filled it with cool water, and the owl gulped gratefully. Severus untied the parchment from her leg. Ikit hissed, and, instantly, one of her many grandchildren appeared at her side. “Food, and a quiet place to rest for this one,” she said. The young girl gently picked up the owl, and disappeared. 

The parchment was rolled neatly, and Severus opened it with a strong sense of trepidation. He feared that Dumbledore was meddling again, and he sagged with relief when he recognized the handwriting. It wasn’t Dumbledore. Severus fully recognized that he was suffering from PSTD or some other trauma-related disorder, if the notion of his friend, mentor and benefactor could strike such fear. Regardless, he read the missive as his heartbeat returned to normal.

_Professor Snape,_

_I have no idea if an owl will reach you, but I had to try. I don’t know why you left so suddenly, or whether this will make a difference, but I thought you should know:_

_He looks for you. All the time._

_HG_

The final seven words struck him like thunder, rumbling deep in his consciousness. He looks for you. With an annoyed snort, he crumpled the parchment and threw it to the ground, before stomping off into the bushes for a few minutes. Infernal, interfering little chit of a girl! How dare she! And how dare she send just enough information to tweak at Severus’ stone heart, without communicating any real information? Severus let out a furious roar, causing birds and small animals to scurry away in alarm. After some deep breaths, and furious cursing, Severus returned to the clearing where Ikit was watching him in amusement. He spied the parchment on the ground, and made to pick it up, but she snatched it before he had a chance. Severus had only a moment to notice that she was shockingly agile for an old woman. 

Her eyes widened in glee as she read the note and her smile, when it reached him, was immeasurably fond. “Note from home?”

Severus’ unintelligible grunt wasn’t an answer, but Ikit hadn’t expected one. She placed a weathered hand on his cheek. “My young seeker,” she said, and Severus jolted at the unexpected Quidditch term, here of all places. “Searching and searching, but unsure what he looks for.”

“Knowledge,” he said. “I look for knowledge.”

“To what end? Knowledge is only good if you do something with it, child. It’s not a prize to place on a shelf. Will this be your great accomplishment? To have a vast collection of information that you keep to yourself? And no one to show it to?”

“I should go,” he said. “Boy will need help with the rice fields”

She smiled, and said no more, and Severus walked back to Boy’s farm, his thoughts heavy.

He didn’t expect to see Ikit, flanked by a cotillion of granddaughters, appear that night as he and Boy sat drinking by the fire. She settled herself beside Severus, sat quietly for a moment, watching the fire, and looking at the stars.

“My time here is nearly over,” she finally said. “I know this, but I have an unfinished task. You, child, are my last gift to the world.”

“Why? Why is this so important?”

She smiled, but didn’t answer. Maybe it was because she doesn’t want to tell him, maybe it was because she didn’t know. It was possible that she was just a daft old lady who was taken by flights of fancy.

“You have not mastered our magic, Severus. You are blocked. Here.” She thumped him in the chest, and Severus coughed a little. “We will do a ritual that will unblock your centre, and allow you to know your heart’s treasure. Then, you will have the right motivation to learn.”

Severus rolled his eyes. He thought it might be interesting to learn the spells that summon rain, and the ones that ward away illness, but he didn’t really care that much if he never learned. Not if he had to unblock his centre. It sounded far too emotional for his liking, and Severus preferred his centre to stay as neat and tidy as it had been for his entire life. Severus was certain that he didn’t have a heart’s treasure. But, Ikit had been kind, and her family had been feeding and caring for him for months without a single hesitation. If this were important to Ikit, he’d humour her.

As Ikit and her granddaughters prepared the ritual, he began to daydream. Perhaps the ritual would tell him the next place that he would travel. He was tired of being hot all the time. Maybe Canada. Weren’t there magical people in Vancouver?

“Child!” Ikit’s voice was a little sharp. “It is time. You carry such sadness in you because you have been cursed. Tell me, who has been disturbing your dreams since you’ve come to us?”

Severus stilled. His dreams were the same as they always were. Despite his real-life vanquishing, Voldemort stalked through his nightmares constantly. Most nights, Severus dreamed of being discovered as a traitor, and watching as the Dark Lord tortured and killed the members of the Order one by one, finishing by ripping Harry apart with a silver dagger. He’d never spoken of his dreams, and the habit of casting silencing charms each night was as ingrained as brushing his teeth. “I do not speak his name,” he said quietly, when it became obvious that Ikit was awaiting his response. 

“No matter. He goes by many names. He has gone from this plane, but he lingers where the water sinks. He curses your dreams and binds your heart.”

Severus felt tears spring to his eyes. Since the day he’d been marked, his chest had felt tight. Despite his nature to cling to logic, the truth of her words resonated deep within him. “Ikit,” he said weakly.

“It is fine, my seeker. We will cast the ritual, we will unbind your spirit.”

One of the granddaughters brought forth a small crate containing three chickens. Ikit bade Severus kneel beside her. She raised a bowl filled with rice wine above her head, and chanted: “I call upon the children of Kabunian! Kabigat and Bugan, Baltok and Bangan, Gatan and Bangnan, Amduyan and Ubban, Syan and Lingan!”

The sky darkened, and thunder rumbled. Severus felt his heartbeat thundering through his veins, and sound roared in his ears. He swayed, and barely noticed as Ikit sacrificed the chickens on the stone altar that Severus hadn’t seen there before. His translation spell slipped, and as Ikit chanted, he was unable to understand what she was saying. For the first time in a long time, Severus knew childish terror (unrelated to the Dark Lord), and as the magic swirled and roared around him, he fell to the ground, and knew only darkness.

He awoke in his hut, sun streaming through the narrow doorway. Boy was crouching in the dirt near the door, keeping watch over him.

“What,” said Severus “was that?”

“Topya,” Boy said with a shrug. “How do you feel?”

“Grated.” Every inch of his skin ached, as though he’d been dragged forcibly against a rough surface. 

“Ikit will want to see you.”

“Mustn’t keep her waiting, after such a fun party last night,” Severus griped, but there was no heat in his words. 

When they arrived in the village, it was quiet, as though something had happened. Severus’ instincts flared, and he realized that not a single dog barked, there had been no laughter, no women gossiping in the roughly hewn open area in the centre of the huts. It was as though the village was holding its breath.

One of the many granddaughters emerged from Ikit’s hut as they arrived. “Good, you’re here. It’s not long,” she said.

“Not long for what?”

“Come”

Severus squinted into the darkness as he crouched and entered Ikit’s hut. The woman herself lay still and silent on her woven mat, and Severus felt his heart clench and a low moan escaped his throat.

“Child?” Ikit’s voice was weak. “You’ve come.”

“What have you done?” Severus whispered. 

“What was needed, child. We have found your heart’s treasure.”

“But, Ikit, I haven’t. I don’t-”

“Hush, you will now. Now you will be able to find your stillness, and in that, you’ll find your deepest desire.”

“Please, let me heal you…”

“Severus, my dearest one. You aren’t a child of my body, but one of my heart. I am old, and I have accomplished my purpose.”

“I thought you were going to teach me your magic.”

Ikit’s laughter was soft, and interspersed with a coughing fit that had Severus clutching at his wand, desperate to ease her suffering. “And so I have, dearest one. Come, sit with me.”

Severus hunkered down beside her, and she irritably shooed her family away. “Ikit, please, your family…”

“My family has said what they needed to say. You will sit with me, and ease my way into the next plane of existence. Don’t speak, Severus, find your stillness. Seek your heart’s desire.”

Severus sat with her, listening to the cadence of her shallow breathing. His vision narrowed, and he felt dizzy. He closed his eyes to ward off a wave of nausea, and suddenly his mind’s eye was flooded with a flash of green. Green, the colour of the Scottish highlands, so rich and vibrant that it made his breath catch. Green, the colour of Harry’s eyes. As he thought of Harry, he stopped breathing entirely, and he knew. As Ikit had promised, with bolt of stunning clarity, Severus had realized his heart’s treasure.


	13. The Green Eyed Man

Ikit laughed softly at Severus’ gasp of recognition. “The green-eyed man?” Her smile was like a hug, warm, soft, loving.

“His name is Harry,” Severus said quietly. “And if I had to trade the rest of the breaths of my body for one more chance to see his eyes, I would do so, willingly.”

“Yes,” Ikit said. “I knew that you had found it.”

“But that’s it? I travelled halfway across the world to learn rare magic, only to find myself lovesick over a boy who hates me?”

“Open your eyes, Severus. You travelled far, true, but you learned to trust your heart, and you found what matters.”

“But he hates me, he fears me. He thinks I betrayed him.”

“He might have, once.”

“Has his opinion changed, Ikit?”

She gifted him with one last gentle smile and squeezed his hand. “I can’t tell you everything, seeker. Not now that you have a lovely free heart to use on your own”

“Ikit, thank you, for everything. For giving me a home here, and for teaching me…”

“It’s nothing, child of my heart. Someday, you will teach others what you’ve learned. Go now, Severus. Go to him. Do not linger after my death. I will have gone.”

Severus laid a gentle kiss on the withered cheek, and left.

Apparation hops, followed by an International portkey, followed by a series of Apparition hops, would exhaust any man, but Severus had also just experienced a cleansing ritual, and when he arrived in Hogsmeade, he staggered.

He managed to get himself inside the Hog’s Head, but couldn’t fathom the walk to the castle. “C’n I’ve a room, Abe?” He asked at the bar, his exhaustion allowing the Northern edges to bleed into his accent.

“You might as well,” Aberforth replied, tossing him a key. The "Thanks" rumbled low in Severus’ chest, and he pondered the mammoth task of climbing the stairs. “You look like hell, Snape. Here.” He passed a somewhat grubby tumbler full of fire whiskey down the bar towards Snape, who gratefully sipped. But, as he nodded off over his glass, Aberforth laughed, gently removed the glass from Severus’ clenched hand and said “Off to bed, then.” Severus complied.

He awoke, chilled, uncertain what time it was. The air was different here, thinner, drier. But it smelled sweet and crisp, and just like that, Severus felt like he was at home. In the dusky light of dawn, the Castle was resplendent. As Severus reached the gates, and placed a tender hand on the left-side pillar, he breathed deeply.

The gates swung open, welcoming him like an old friend. The walk to the front doors of the castle was slow, taking in the familiar sights and breathing the air that hit his lungs like a gentle balm. Just as he approached the doors, a familiar flash of orange caught his eye. “Harry” he breathed, as the little fox emerged from the forest, nose high in the air, alert.

Severus battled conflicting feelings of joy and despair. Seeing that Harry was safe, and seemingly, well, filled him with deep relief, but knowing that he still wasn’t able to regain his human self sent a pang of loss through Severus’ middle. It only mattered a little, though. Severus was home, and Harry was here, even if only in his animagus form. Severus wasn’t fool enough to deny the staggering bolt of clarity he’d received in the Bontoc village. Harry was all that his heart desired, and Severus would simply have to hope that Harry the fox would learn to tolerate his presence again.

He waited by the door, as Harry appeared to be approaching. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry stopped, very deliberately, and cocked his head. “Hello, Harry,” Severus said softly. “I’ve missed you.”

Harry blinked rapidly, and sniffed the air again. With feather soft steps, he climbed the stairs and slowly approached Severus, nose twitching wildly. At his approach, Severus crouched, and extended a hand for the little fox to sniff. Harry breathed deeply and stilled, his eyes narrowing as he looked intently at Severus. Severus’ heart stuttered for a moment, ready for the inevitable pain and rejection. Instead, Harry stood on his hind legs, and gently sniffed every inch of his face. His whiskers tickled Severus’ sensitive cheeks, and he felt himself smiling. Suddenly, Harry gave a happy yip, and bounced into Severus’ arms.

Severus laughed. “Perhaps you’ve missed me as well. Have you forgiven me, then? For hurting you, and putting you in danger?” Harry nuzzled under Severus’ neck, and gave a pleased little growl. “I’m going to the Headmaster’s office.” He told Harry, placing him back on the floor. Harry blinked, and ran lightly down the hall in the direction of the dungeons. 

It took no time at all for a smiling Severus to find his way to the Gargoyle that guarded Albus’ office. Before he had time to start guessing at passwords, the stone creature moved aside, and Severus rode the stairs to the top. “Come in,” Albus said, as Severus raised his hand to knock.

Albus was sitting at his desk, reviewing a thick stack of parchment, and Severus was surprised to see how much older he looked. Either the battle at Malfoy Manor had taken a great deal from Albus, or Severus had simply lost perspective. When Albus smiled, though, he looked a great deal younger, Severus noted with relief.

“Severus!” Albus’ greeting was warm, as was the hand that he reached across the desk to place on Severus’. “I didn’t expect you back so quickly. Did you find your adventure?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Severus said. “I learned a great deal, but most of all, I realized that I wanted to be at home.”

“Then I’m thrilled you’re back,” Albus said. “It sounds like your trip was enlightening.”

“It was,” Severus said. 

“When you’ve rested up, I will be eager to learn of your travels. In the meantime, however, can I assume your presence means that you will stay in the Castle for a time?”

“If I’m welcome” Severus replied. He hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he was now unemployed, and his place at Hogwarts wasn’t guaranteed. 

“You are!” Albus was beaming. “Hogwarts is your home, child. You will always be welcomed here. Besides that, Professor Slughorn has grown weary and wishes to resume his retirement. He’ll be delighted to put the stirring rod back into your capable hands.”

“How have things been here? I’ll confess, I haven’t seen a newspaper since I left Hogwarts”

“Much has changed, but more has stayed the same,” Albus smiled. “The Ministry is largely unchanged since you left. The Death Eaters have all been tried, and are serving sentences in Azkaban. Young Mister Malfoy was given a wand restriction and house arrest for his involvement in Harry’s abduction.”

Severus allowed himself a moment of sadness for his Godson. More often than not, he’d been a spoiled little monster, but he couldn’t help the family that he was raised in, and, despite the fact that he’d nearly been the architect of Harry’s death, it was depressing to see such promise languishing in the despair of Malfoy Manor. Perhaps, he mused, he would reach out and see if Draco wanted to take on a potions mastery.

“I see that Harry is still here at Hogwarts,” Severus said evenly, willing his body not to betray any emotion.

“Of course, Severus. Hogwarts is Harry’s home, just as it’s yours.”

“How is he?” The words didn’t come smoothly, or easily, and his shaking hands betrayed his nerves.

Albus smiled. “He is better. Not the same as he once was, but not as frightened or angry as you last saw him. More importantly, Severus, how are you?”

Severus’ smile was genuine. “I’m also better, Albus. The time away was good. I learned a great deal about myself.”

“You’ll find your own quarters unchanged from when you left them.”

“Thank you, Albus, for everything”

“It’s nothing, child. Thank you, for everything you’ve done. I know that the previous years have been difficult for you, and that you’ve supplanted your joy for the sake of others. My sole condition in welcoming you here is that you allow your genuine self to show. You don’t need to be a double agent any longer. You don’t need to hide behind your persona. I’d like to hire the real Severus Snape to teach.”

Severus nodded, words failing him. “It…it has been difficult.”

“I know. So, in your travels, you found that your place is here?”

“Yes. I learned my heart’s desire.”

“Then you’d best go to him, hadn’t you?” Albus smile was knowing, and the old Severus would have said something cutting, designed to distance anyone from seeing his emotions. 

Instead, he turned at the doorway, fond eyes meeting Albus’ and said “I’m glad to be home.”

He felt lighter as he returned to his dungeons and countered the wards on the doors. He would shower, have tea, and see if he couldn’t find Harry to spend some time with him.

Instead, as he opened the door, his mouth dropped when he saw Harry, in human form, sitting calmly on his sofa. “Hello sir” Harry said, his smile a little forced.

“H-Harry...” Severus’ breath whooshed from him in a torrent of air, and his lungs contracted. Harry was whole, and speaking to him, and sitting in his lounge.

“Welcome back.”

“Thank you. You look well.”

“I’m feeling much better.”

Severus hadn’t expected Harry to be speaking to him at all, but this wooden, formal exchange was worse than nothing. He flew to Harry’s side and found himself on the floor next to the sofa. “Harry. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine what you must have gone through these past months.”

Harry shrugged and tried to smile, but it failed, and he only managed a bit of a grimace. “I’m the one who needs to be sorry, sir. I threw myself at you, and then I got myself captured, and got Moody killed, and then I chased you away from Hogwarts. I’m disgusted with myself, sir, and I’ll never be able to make it up to you.” He squared his shoulders then, and his eyes were determined. “I’ll be going though, sir. I won’t allow you to be uncomfortable in your home. Not after all you did for me, and everyone. I just wanted to apologize before I left.” 

He stood, and Severus clutched at his robes. “No, Harry, please. Please stay, please let me tell you…”

“I couldn’t, sir. I’ve been the catalyst for your downfall on too many occasions. I can’t stand by and continue to ruin your life, not now that you’ve finally got your freedom.”

“Harry!” Severus heard the desperate tone of his voice, and Harry must have too, because he paused, turned back. His face was a hard mask, but his eyes belied the truth. Severus could see the faintest glimmer of hope sparking within.

“Please, Harry,” Severus begged. “Just stay for a few minutes. I have some things that I need to say to you. Then, if you need to, I’ll understand if you go.”

The emotions warred on his features for a moment, and finally, with a huge sigh, Harry sat again. “I suppose I owe you that,” he said softly. Severus refused to use Legimency on Harry, not when he was trying to build back the trust that they had forged, but Harry had always worn his emotions out on the open. He was hopeful, and wary, and so, so afraid that Severus would hurt him again.

“I left the Castle, not because I didn’t want to be with you, but because I thought that you needed the space to heal. You’d been so badly hurt, and when you finally woke up, and looked at me so distrustfully, it felt like a kindness.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, Harry, please. I want you to understand everything. To start with, I didn’t reject your advances because I wanted to. It’s illegal for a student and professor to embark upon a relationship, and it’s unfair to take advantage of someone who is emotionally vulnerable.”

Harry’s face coloured, and he looked as though he was about to speak again. Severus plunged on. He found this so difficult, honestly expressing his feelings, and if he faltered, he’d lose the opportunity. “Harry, please look at me.” The wide eyes met his, and Severus felt that he could lose himself in their depths. “If we make love, Harry, I want it to happen when we’re equals. It would be such a waste if we were acting out of fear, or desperation. If we were to choose one another, I’d want it to be just that…a choice.”

Harry’s eyes glistened, and Severus knew that he was about to cry. He needed to get the rest of this out. “I left, partly to give you time to heal, but also because I’d never really lived outside the walls of this castle. I wanted to explore, to learn. I didn’t want to make safe choices, not when I’d never really explored what else there was.” Harry’s expression began to shut down again, and Severus hurried to continue. 

“So you can imagine my surprise, Harry, when I travelled halfway across the world, learned how to harness elemental magic beyond my wildest dreams, and uncovered the deepest longing of my heart. It was you, Harry. You are my heart’s desire.”

Harry gasped, and his face alit with such desperate hope that Severus felt his heart constrict. He was truly beautiful. “You’re young, Harry, and you now have a future, free of the expectations of others, so I’ll understand if you wish to explore what you could do in this life. But, it’s important that you are under no misunderstanding. If you’ll have me, I would follow you to the ends of the earth. I would stop at nothing to bring you happiness. You’re my grand adventure, Harry.”

For a moment, nothing happened. Harry seemed as though he was turning over Severus’ every word, examining each one closely. He blinked rapidly for a moment, and then suddenly, joy burst across his face. It resembled the most perfect sunrise Severus had ever seen, and his breath caught.

Harry flung himself at Severus, hitting him somewhere around the middle, and causing the both of them to overbalance backwards. As Severus felt his head strike the stone floor with a clunk, his attention was taken completely by Harry’s lips upon his.

Severus had been kissed before, once, in fact, by Harry himself, but he was completely unprepared for the warmth that blossomed through him as Harry’s mouth captured his, rather fiercely. Without thinking, he responded, and it was only the hugely irritating need to breathe that parted them. They were both gasping slightly, and Harry wore a look on his face that suggested Severus had hung the moon.

Harry’s hand tentatively touched his cheek, as though fearful of being rebuffed. “Mine?” He asked softly.

“Yours, Harry. Completely yours.”

Finite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it guys! Thanks for reading, and commenting! I've really enjoyed hearing from you throughout the process.


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